


The Laddie

by PropertyOfThaJoker



Series: The Laddie [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ben is a Duke, F/M, Fluff, Regency, Regency Era, Rey is an orphan, Romance, Scotland, Scottish Highlands, Victorian, Victorian era, dowry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PropertyOfThaJoker/pseuds/PropertyOfThaJoker
Summary: Miss Rey Johnson admittedly did not know much about the man that was standing before her at the altar, except that his name was Benjamin Buchanan Organa Solo, he was at least six inches taller than her, that he was impossibly pale to look so otherwise healthy, as if he had never seen the sun, and that he had hair as black as night.And that he was the Duke of Chandrila. Not a royal, but a duke, nonetheless.
Relationships: Chewbacca/Maz Kanata, Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: The Laddie [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990120
Comments: 230
Kudos: 609





	1. A New Home

**November 1830, northern Scotland.**

* * *

Miss Rey Johnson admittedly did not know much about the man that was standing before her at the altar, except that his name was Benjamin Buchanan Organa Solo, he was at least six inches taller than her, that he was impossibly pale to look so otherwise healthy, as if he had never seen the sun, and that he had hair as black as night. 

And that he was the Duke of Chandrila. Not a royal, but a duke, nonetheless. 

His mother had made it clear that he’d be inheriting the Dukedom of Alderaan, as well, the title which her brother currently held._ “And he refused to marry - he had no children, quite obviously. He is much more interested in religion and building things.” _

She had also pointed out to her future daughter-in-law, on more than one occasion, that the lands of Alderaan and Chandrila dukedoms were right up against each other. 

They said their vows, were declared husband and wife, and he had kissed her, if only briefly.  
  
She sat in the carriage, looking out at the highland landscape.  
  
“You are not angry that I am not taking you back to London?” her husband asked. “I am awfully tired of London. I prefer the highlands.” 

Rey straightened up, fiddling with the beads on her pale blue dress. “I’ve never been to London, so I cannot really say that I have a preference, your grace.”  
  
At that, the Duke of Chandrila straightened up, as well. “We must rectify that soon, then, and please, I beg of you,” he paused, his eyes softening, “call me Ben.” He then smirked. “Although, you could now insist that I call you ‘your grace.’” 

_ He is only trying to be polite _ , she mused. “I am just Rey, sir.”  
  
“Sir?” He was giving her a kind smirk - it seemed to be a reflex.   
  
She blushed. “Ben, I mean. I am just Rey.” 

“Well, _ just _Rey,” he mused, pulling back the curtain on the carriage, looking out over the North Sea, “we should be in Golspie by nightfall. I have requested that we stop in Invergordon if only to stretch and have a bite to eat. It’s about halfway between Inverness and Golspie.” 

He must have been educated in England, because he didn’t sound like a Scotsman, or, rather, he did, just not like a highlander - not that his mother did, either.

“Why are you wanting to fix your home in the highlands, your- Ben?” she asked. 

“As I said, I like it in the highlands. I prefer the country, and I prefer Scotland.” That much was obvious, she supposed. He was wearing full Highland dress, and there were four red stripes running through the tartan of his kilt, indicating the wealth and station that came along with his name. "My business is here, too. I only ever liked London during season."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Is that a Solo tartan or is Chandrillan?” Rey asked. She probably shouldn’t ask so many questions. 

“Chandrilan. There are lots of Solos - the name has been here since the Vikings came, but only the Duke of Chandrila, his children, and his _ wife _,” he emphasized, “can wear Chandrilan tartan.” 

Rey nodded. She had so many more questions to ask of him. _ Why did you wish to marry a virtually penniless, simple, country girl such as myself _ being the chief among them. _ For another time, _ she supposed. _ Or never. _

“Are you clan chief, then?”  
  
He seemed to be amused by all of her questions. “I am, yes, but as you and I both know, that way of life has been long gone.” 

“And your people fought for the Crown,” she replied. 

He nodded. “Aye, they did.” 

“I don’t know if my people… well… no, I have no idea.” He must have noticed her face.  
  
“Matters not, wife.”

* * *

They learned quite a bit about each other during their carriage ride. Ben was nine and twenty to her nine and ten years. He played the pipes and was a skilled swordsman and horseman. She told him of her fondness for reading, knitting, and that she liked animals. 

“You’ll have all the yarn you want, if you so desire,” he said. “Your quarters has a rather large sitting room, perfect for reading and knitting, I suppose. My mother used to spend hours embroidering there, when I was a lad.” 

Rey couldn’t imagine how large Scarif Castle was, but from what she had gathered, it was rather stately. “Are your stables close to your home?” 

“Very. I’d hate to have to walk too far to get one to attend to business.” He didn’t ask if she rode - he knew that she didn’t. She didn’t even come with a trousseau, which made this situation all the more unbalanced. Her wedding dress had been purchased for her by her now mother-in-law, who had no reason at all to even like her. Surely she had to find it odd that her only son - her only child - a Duke almost doubly over, had insisted on marrying an orphan with a purse that contained but a shilling. Rey found it odd, too.

“Couldn’t you have a stable boy fetch it for you?”   
  
“Oh, I enjoy the horses far too much to give the stable boys that pleasure,” he insisted. “That’s one of my business ventures, horse breeding. I’d have a stable for twenty horses if it would not make a muck of the entire estate.” 

Rey tried not to let her mouth hang open as they turned into the road leading to Scarif. It was the largest castle she had ever seen - not that she had seen too many, but she had seen drawings. It was bigger than Inverness Castle, to be sure. “We are home, Just Rey.”

Once at the end of the road, Rey noticed all of the staff standing outside waiting on them. There had to be at least twenty people standing there to greet the Duke and… herself. 

The carriage door opened, and Ben stepped out first, before motioning for her to take his hand.

“Welcome back, your grace!” said several of them at once.  
  
“Thank you,” Ben said with a smile, noticing that Rey was too shy to look any of them in the eye. “Please welcome your new mistress, Rey, Duchess of Chandrila.”

* * *

Rey was in too much shock to really get a good look at her surroundings. A small woman, Maz, led she and her new husband up the stairs. “Ezra will be off with ye, laddie,” she said with familiarity, “I’ll take care of the mistress.”  
  
She watched Ben walk away to prepare for their wedding night. The thought made her shiver with dread, but she knew it was coming. She supposed that is why she had asked him so many questions during the carriage ride; to distract herself from what she knew was to come. 

“Hera will have dinner for yourself and the Duke delivered to your room shortly,” she said as she opened the door. “I know ya didn’t come with any trunks of your own, but not to worry - the former mistress sent us your measurements a few weeks ago, and we were able to prepare you enough chemises and dresses for a while.”  
  
“That is kind of you,” she replied, finally letting her jaw drop as Maz opened the door. “This… this is…?” 

“Yours? Yes,” Maz said with a smile. “These were Duchess Leia’s rooms before she went to live with her brother.” The door opened led to a sitting room (it must be the one Ben told her of) with vast harlequin-soldered windows that overlooked the sea. “And your bedroom is through this door,” she continued, leading her through to her room. “It has an even better view of the gardens and water, I think.” 

The bed was vast, making her old one in Plutt’s house seem like a thing for cats, and in this castle, the cats probably had a better bed, truth be told. The woodworking in the headboard was splendid. “We need to get ya out of this dress and into a gown and robe, mistress.”

Rey’s eyes were wide. “Please, call me Rey,” she replied quickly. “I do not believe I’ll ever be used to being mistress of such a place.” 

Maz’s own eyes softened. “Well, I cannot quite call you that, my dear. Wouldna be proper.” 

Rey followed her movements to the wardrobe, watching as she grabbed a chemise and robe. “I call the master, ‘laddie’, so I reckon I could call you ‘lassie’, if that suits you fine.” She nodded, sitting down at the vanity that Maz had pulled her toward. “As bonnie as your hair looks up in these plaits, I need to take them out.” 

Rey looked at her hair - she had barely looked at herself this morning when Ben’s mother helped her to get ready at the church. She rather liked how her hair looked. “Did Duchess Leia fix your hair?” 

“Yes,” she replied, smiling. “She is kind.”

“That she is,” Maz smiled softly. “What a proper lady.” Once her hair was down, Maz gave her a wet rag to clean her face with. “There are more clean rags by the water basin,” she said, and Rey knew why she was letting her know, sending a chill down her spine. Maz began brushing her hair as a younger woman named Hera came in with a cart of food. “Hera, do set that up quickly. No doubt the laddie is already out of dress. He wants ta see his wife.” 

_His wife,_ Rey thought. She swallowed thickly, deciding that she must drink enough wine to get herself through her marital duties. 

Rey stood up as Maz helped her undress, not seeming to suggest that Hera leave the room as Rey was stark naked before them. Maz gently pulled the new, silk chemise over her body, and slipped a robe over her shoulders. 

Then there was a knock at the door on the other side of the room. “That’s him,” Maz said. “Hold on, laddie! Give her a minute!” Hera pushed the empty cart out of the room and headed back to wherever she came from. “Do you know what happens in a marriage bed, lassie?”

Maz put both hands on her shoulders, and Rey nodded nervously. “Good. Tis na pleasant the first time, but just let him lead you. Men find the act much more pleasurable than women do.” Maz then took her hands, looking at the gold and diamond ring that Ben had placed on her finger just that morning. “But the laddie cares for you, lass. I’m sure he’ll be gentle.”  
  
Maz left, and Rey knew that was her cue. “Come in,” she said toward the door.


	2. Water, Whisky, Wine

Ben opened the door slowly. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” Rey replied nervously. “One of your servants came and set up dinner, as you can well see.”

“We are blessed here at Scarif, Rey,” he said, walking toward the table and pulling out a chair for her, “to have the best cooks and kitchen in the county.” Rey thanked him and sat down, closing her eyes in some sort of anticipation as he pushed her chair in. “Should you have a want for anything, they can get it for you, although, oranges can be quite difficult to get here except a few times a year.” 

“I doubt I’ll have a craving for oranges.”  _ Never say never _ , she thought, remembering hearing something about women having cravings while they were with child. 

“I say that because I have such a liking for them.” Ben sat across from her, putting his napkin in his lap. “Ah - rack of lamb,” he said, observing the food on the table. “And Port.” He poured her a glass of the wine before pouring his own glass. “If you’d rather have water-”

“No, I like wine,” she said quickly, taking a much larger sip than was ladylike. If he noticed, he said nothing. 

“If you get a hankering for whisky, I have quite the selection.” 

Of course he did; not Scotsman of his breeding would be caught dead or alive without a decent whisky collection. “Do you like whisky?”

Rey nodded. “I used to sneak some of Plutt’s, on occasion. I never liked the ones that tasted like burning wood. And I think he made it himself.”

Ben cut into the lamb, putting some on her plate. “Hold on just a moment - I’ll go get us some.” 

He quickly stood from the table and went to his own rooms. He surely must be trying to get her drunk before the events began. Not that she opposed the idea at all. 

“This is from my father’s distillery, just down the road,” he said, coming back into her room and shutting the door. “It’s not the most aged I have, but it’s sweet, which I thought you might enjoy.” He brought two glasses to the table and poured her a sip before pouring himself a much larger portion. “See if you like it before I give you more.” 

Rey brought the snifter to her lips, taking a small sip, letting the caramel-colored liquid sit on her tongue for a bit before swallowing. “It’s like candy,” she said softly. “I’ll have more.” 

He smiled gently as he filled up her glass. “Are your rooms to your liking?”

She nodded. “I didn’t think a view such as the one from the sitting room was possible,” Rey answered. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s yours to fill with whatever you wish, Rey. Please know that.” 

She watched as her husband took a sip of whisky, putting the glass down to cut into the lamb. 

_ “The laddie cares for you, lass,” _ she recalled Maz saying just minutes ago. Other than the fact that she was now his wife, she couldn’t imagine why.

“I hope to show you Chandrila and the rest of Scarif over the next few days, if you’d like,” he said, his eyes widening looking at her plate. “You haven’t touched your food. Are you ill?”

“No, no,” she said, brushing him off. “I’m fine.” 

“Rey,” Ben said softly, reaching across the table for her hand. She flinched, and he took her hand anyway. “You’re terrified.”

She shook her head. “I’m not scar-”

“But you are,” he interrupted. “What did Maz say to you?” He was rubbing soft circles into the palm of her left hand. 

“Nothing that I didn’t already know,” she answered, scared to meet the gaze that she felt upon her. 

Ben sighed, running his free hand through his black locks. “I didn’t think to discuss this with you in the carriage ride, because I was having such an enjoyable time telling you about your future home, that I… Oh, Rey, I have been so neglectful.” 

She wanted to reply that he hadn’t been, that he had been very thoughtful, but she couldn’t find the ability to speak. “Ben…”

He let go of her hand. “If you allow it, I would like to spend the evening with you, talking and nothing more, but I will sleep in my own rooms.” 

Rey sat up straight. “But what about the church?” 

“The church needn’t know when I lay with my wife,” he replied sternly. “I made a vow to worship you with my body, but I also made a vow to protect you, and it would be most ungodly of me to break that vow by forcing you.” 

Rey thought she might begin to cry. “You’re too kind.” 

He looked up at her with a soft gaze. “I want you to be happy here, Rey. I truly do.” He reached across the table for her hand again. “I would hate to think that for first evening here would be marred by laying with a man that you barely know.”

_ A man that is my husband _ , she thought.

* * *

It was still not yet seven in the evening, so they retired to her sitting room after their dinner. Rey was able to eat after Ben assured her that he wouldn’t insist upon taking her to bed that evening. They spent hours asking each other random questions, likes and dislikes, favorites, and so on.

“Do you miss Glenshee?” he asked. It was her village, a far way from Scarif.    
  
“It’s lovely, but, well… no. No, I do not,” she replied. She thought of the inn and Plutt, the place where she had been dropped by her vagabond parents when she was but a wee lass of five. Why a duke had insisted on making a barmaid his wife was beyond her, but she wasn’t in the position to ask. She hoped, for his sake, and maybe her own, that no one in Chandrila or Alderaan figured out the truth about their duchess and would-be duchess’s past: that she was an orphan with nothing. 

“Some consider that area to be the Highlands, but I do not,” Ben said, pouring Rey more water. “This is the Highlands.” He pointed out the window. “I hope that we can spend tomorrow going over the estate, if you’d like. It’s now yours, too.” 

He desperately wanted her to feel comfortable, she realized, and for that she was grateful. “I would enjoy that.”

Ben nodded. “Good. No one expects us to be at the chapel tomorrow morning, I’m sure.” He had told her about the chapel a mile away that he attended on Sundays when he was here. “They might still believe me to be in Inverness, though I’m sure that Maz will tell them the news.

Rey took a sip of her water. “Maz runs the house?” 

“Yes, and tended to my mother before she moved back to Theed Castle. The house needed a woman, still, though, but the duties of running a household are now yours, formally, at least.” 

She nodded. Rey knew nothing about running a household, let alone a staff of twenty-something people - she knew how to run an inn pub.

“How far away is Theed?” she asked. 

She watched him swirl his own whisky. “A half-day’s ride. Mother and Uncle Luke will be expecting us soon, no doubt.” He took a sip. “It’s on Loch Himsdale, north of here. It’s beautiful.” 

“Will you be having Christmas here?” she asked, starting to feel more at ease around him. 

“Of course,” he said, “Mother and Luke will surely be here, then. I had wanted to have a large party so that my boyhood friends could meet you.” 

_ What would he want with his friends meeting her?  _

Rey wished she had friends that he could meet. “You will make friends here in no time,  _ Just Rey _ ,” he said, as if reading her mind. 

“I fear they won’t want anything to do with me, not when they figure out that the duchess is a fraud,” she said, looking down at her glass of water. 

His new pet name for her had gone unnoticed. “Just Rey, you are not  _ just  _ Rey,” he said, scooting closer to her. “You might not believe me yet, but my hope is that one day, you will know how important you are.” 

He took her hand again. The look in his eyes was sincere, as if he wished to soothe her fears; like he wanted to talk to her like he would an old friend. 

“I want you to see Scarif, to see Chandrila, and eventually Alderaan as your home.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

  
The new duchess was tucked into bed by her husband, with a kiss placed on her brow before he bid her goodnight. 

What a strange man, she thought, closing her eyes, welcoming sleep after such a very long day.

* * *

  
“Now, I don’t know how the ladies wear their hair south of Inverness,” Maz said, as Rey sat at the vanity, “but you cannot wear it down here unless it’s braided.”    
  
“But Ben is taking me around the estate and parts of Chandrila,” she said, “and it’s _so cold and windy._”

Maz smiled at the familiarity. “You have a brand new sable coat waiting on you, lassie. You’ll be plenty warm. And the laddie insisted on you having a skirt in Chandrila tartan to match his own kilt.” 

_ A fur of her very own. And a wool skirt made just for her? _ She chewed on her scone a bit more, and took a sip of tea. “Oh, alright.” 

“It int becoming of anyone but a wee lass to wear her hair down in public,” Maz said, beginning Rey’s braid. “My, you’ve hair just nearly as thick as Duchess Leia’s.” 

She continued to eat as Maz finished her work. “Now, the skirt you’ll have on today is Chandrilan hunting.” 

Rey had no idea what that meant, but she figured she would ask Ben later.

* * *

  
She met Ben at the bottom of the staircase. He stared as she walked down. “You look beautiful in my tartan,” he said as she reached the bottom. 

“Thank you,” she replied, cheeks reddening. 

“I’ve had Kanan pack us a nice lunch,” he said as he led her out the door, “We’ll be going on Falcon the Fourth.” 

As soon as they were out the door, Rey saw the giant grey stallion. “You mean for us to ride the same horse?” she asked, looking at him quizzically.    
  
“I do.” He hopped onto Falcon and pulled her up with him, with the help of a footman. “I reckon you’ll have to ride side-saddle in that skirt.”

“Would you prefer I wear breeches?” she asked with a smirk.    
  
“Just Rey, you may wear whatever you wish.”

And they were off on their tour.


	3. The Grand Tour

Rey had never seen the sea before, let alone ridden a horse along the shoreline. “I’ll take you salmon fishing in the streams when it warms up,” he said, his arms around her waist and hands on the reigns. Rey figured they were far out of sight from the castle by now, and the sun was becoming brighter by the second - they had left fairly early. 

“It’s so windy, Ben,” she said, remembering to ask Maz who had made her the gloves and thank them. 

“Welcome to the Highlands, lass!” he said with a laugh, patting her back. “And the sea.” Something told her that her new husband loved the sea and everything that nature had to offer. “I ride through here a lot, and I particularly like to come here and sit in the summer months.” He he moved his hand to her waist to hold her steady. “I longed for this place when I was studying at Oxford.” 

“Oxford?” she asked. 

“The school,” he replied. “The university.”

“Yes, I know, I just - I don’t believe,” she replied, stopping. She was as uneducated as they came (lucky to read, even), and her husband was an Oxford-educated duke. 

“I went to Eton when I was fourteen. My mother had halfway raised me in London, so it made sense.” She was sure she would find out more about that later. 

“That explains why most of your speech isn’t that of a Highlander,” Rey said, turning her face into his neck as another gust of wind came. “You spent so much time in England.”

“I’ll take you there this spring,” he said. “And we’ll go anywhere you wish.” He steered the horse off of the beach and toward the trees. “While I prefer it here, I’d like you to see London.”

Rey was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that she had married a man that not only owned a home, but owned a castle, and would be inheriting another. None of it made any sense. Why her?

“We shall talk about the places you’re interested in, as we can go on a trip to celebrate our marriage.” He gave her waist a small squeeze, as if he was excited to show her around. “We shall send for you a new wardrobe; I’m afraid the clothes of a Highlander woman, even a wealthy one, are not in fashion in London, at least not in the spring.” She didn’t reply - she didn’t know much about clothes, except that she now had more than she would ever need. 

“Does this place ever warm up?” she asked. 

Ben chuckled. “Aye, but you better get used to it, just Rey.”

* * *

They stopped in the woods for lunch, and Rey noticed the bottle of Port in the basket. “I guess we did not finish this, did we?”

“Aye, no,” he said, taking it from her hands. “I think Maz was planning on…” He stopped, as if not to frighten her.    
  
“She was planning on us having a regular wedding night,” Rey replied sternly. She kept her back to him, embarrassed. 

“She is an old woman that expects tradition,” he said softly, “she meant no harm, I’m sure of it.”

Rey distracted herself by petting Falcon, much like she had the stray dogs that ran through the village where she once lived. “Do you have a dog?” 

He chuckled. “Several hunting dogs, but they stay with the staff, mostly. I am usually away just as much as I am home.” Ben walked over to her, a glass of Port for her in his hand. “Would you like one? A dog?”

Rey nodded. “I feel rude asking for things.” She turned around, taking the glass from him. “But I’d like something to keep my company while you’re away.”

Ben smiled. “I won’t be gone as much now that I’ve a wife, just Rey.” They both sipped from the glasses. “We’ll still get you a dog.” 

Rey wondered how he’d be spending so much time at Scarif, given that he surely had a mistress that would be missing him terribly. Maybe she lived in town in Dornoch, in a place he kept for her. She didn’t want to think too much about that, though - even though she’d known the man for but a month and had been his wife for shortly over a day, she could already feel herself getting a little jealous. She’d have to ask Maz about it tonight. “Maz put us a blanket in here so we can sit and eat.” 

They sat atop a hill, able to see the top of Scarif Castle, the blue and white Saltire flag of Scotland flying from the tallest point. 

“We can go back and I’ll give you a tour of Scarif. Best that you know where everything is, mistress of the house,” Ben said, wiping his mouth. _Mistress._ There was that word again. 

“I don’t know how to manage a staff, Ben,” she said, finishing her wine, her ham and cheese long gone. 

“Maz will help you,” he said patting her back gently. It seemed to be a common way for him to show affection. “You can help her plan the Christmas Eve party, which will also be your debut as my wife,” he said, finishing off his own glass. “We’ll have a dressmaker in Dornoch make you a grand dress to match my own kilt.”

“What do you call this then?” she asked, pointing to her skirt.

“That’s the Chandrilan hunting tartan,” he replied, picking up a piece of her skirt. “See, there’s no red, so it blends in with the terrain better, as to not expose yourself to the animals we might be trying to hunt.” He put her skirt back down. “I have a kilt in this tartan, too.”

“I quite liked the tartan yesterday, with the red,” she said. 

“That’s the tartan we’ll have your Christmas dress made with,” he said. “Since it’s a formal occasion, I’ll be wearing that kilt again.”

“But you’re not in a kilt today,” she mused, somewhat confused. Didn't all the high-bred men wear kilts?

“I ride in a kilt occasionally, but not with this chill, although I have done it. Your skirt has so many skirts beneath it, and your legs are surely warm in those stockings and boots.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “But it is much easier to ride alone astride and not side saddle.”

There was one of those moments of quiet that happens between people who don’t know each other well.  She felt so inferior. Here she had only had a few tops and a skirt to her name before he came along, and his mother had taken her from the inn about three weeks before the wedding, taking her to Inverness from Glenshee, spending more money on a few new clothes and a wedding dress than Rey had ever seen. Rey wasn’t sure where those few new things had even ended up, since she didn’t arrive at Scarif with a trunk. Hopefully Leia still had those things - she would hate to have lost such nice items.

“I suppose you have not had the chance to even go through your drawers yet in your room, have you?” Ben asked, breaking the silence.

“No. I went to sleep and then Maz woke me up before the sun had even come up,” she said, smiling to herself.

“I ask because my mother left behind quite a few jewels for you; bracelets, necklaces, ear bobs, and brooches. Maybe a few rings, too.” Ben picked up Rey’s gloved hand, feeling her ring through the leather. “She has small wrists and slender fingers like you. As did her mother.” 

“You are spoiling me,” she whispered. With his free hand, he tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear.

“You best be getting used to it,” he said, still fingering at her ring through her glove. “My father spoiled my mother, and I intend on spoiling you.” He put down her hand and pat at her back again. “We better head back to Scarif so you can get a tour of the place.”

“We haven’t gone to the distillery yet,” she said, looking at him as he stood up, offering her a hand to help her stand. 

He smirked. “I’ll take you there tomorrow. I need to stock up on your favorite twelve year, anyway.”

* * *

On their ride back to Scarif, Ben told her about how his father met his mother, during a land dispute with a then-young Duke of Alderaan, Luke Skywalker. His twin sister had come along, often being feistier than he was. “She is a fiery Scotswoman,” Ben said, “as you well know by now.”

She asked about how his father and mother met, since Duchess Leia had never gotten around to telling her.

“Uncle Luke and my father both believed that the Alderaan and Chandrila lines were different than what they were, and my dad, being the biggest buck in the county, or so he thought, made the argument that technically, all of the land was his since the county name is Chandrila,” he chuckled as he spoke of his father. “My mother called him a grumpy old man with an ego too big to match his station, knowing damn well that he was a duke. They were married two months later, and I was born nine months after that.”

“Tell me more about him,” she asked, leaning into him, surprising herself.

“We didn’t always get along. That was partially my doing, his doing, and my mother’s. He was a Scotsman through and through; didn’t want me to be educated in England - he hated going to London. He grew up in Scarif, lived in Scarif, and never saw the need in leaving Scotland.” 

“So he stayed here his entire life?”

“Lass, he traveled all over Scotland in search of the best whisky, and he was gone often,” he said. “He would travel with friends over to the isles, to the lowlands… anywhere he thought he could invest and make money, but at what cost? Sure he had the money, but he had a wife and child at home. As a result, after a good business deal, which was most of the time, because the chap knew how to negotiate, he brought my mother home jewels - a pretty way of apologizing.” He gave her side a light squeeze. “I grew up seeing my father a few times a year because of his travels, and then twice a year once I was at Eton. I had intended on staying in London after Oxford, but my mother wrote me and told me that my father was ill when I was sitting for exams, and as soon as I received my degree, I came home.” The horse slowed as they approached the long drive that led to Scarif, knowing that they were nearly home. “I thought I would hate being here again, but I really fell in love with it. It’s quiet, it’s beautiful, and I remembered what a fun time I had playing here as a wee lad. What a bonnie place it is for a child, and I knew that one day I’d have a few of my own.” 

She hoped he didn’t notice her blush. Maybe she could pass the blush off with the cold breeze. She and Ben - children! 

“I hated being an only child. It was a rather lonely existence, especially when the weather was bad and I was trapped in the castle with my mother who gave me the options of chess or a book.”

“I suppose I’m an only child, too,” she replied, looking ahead at Scarif. She had never thought about the fact that she had no siblings, especially since until she was plucked up by Ben, her sole mission in life was to survive.

“We’ll have a house full of bonnie wee lads and lasses, then,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. 

As they approached the door, a footman appeared from the front door. “No, sir,” Ben exclaimed. “The Duchess hasn’t seen the stables yet. Best I go ahead and show her.” He held her tighter as they headed to the stables.

* * *

“Many a mare has come by to visit Falcon the Fourth, haven’t they, boy?” he said, patting the horse’s side as a stable boy watched from the other end of the barn. “He’s the sire of any of the best colts and fillies in the Highlands.”

Ben hopped down from the tall stallion with ease, helping Rey down next. “Maz will surely have dinner waiting for us by the time we finish the tour of the castle.” He led her back toward the castle with his hand on her back. “You’ll need to pick a steed for yourself Rey. We can start your riding lessons soon, if you wish.” He fully intended on her being a lady - being the lady of this estate, she could very well tell. “You can have any of them, except for Falcon - he is mine.” 

“Why is Falcon so special?” she asked. “Not that I would take your horse from you.” 

The castle came back into view as they briskly walked home. “My father brought one of his fillies to a local breeder, and Falcon the First was born when he was around five and twenty, not long after his own father, my grandfather had died. He bred him, and as a result, Falcon the Second was born. Father became known as not only an investor in distilleries around the country, and a whisky maker himself, but as a horse breeder.”

Rey could only nod. “When I was a young boy, Falcon the Third was born, and Falcon the Fourth was the last of the line that my father was here to witness. Falcon the Fifth can be yours, if you like, but he is still a colt.”

“Sounds as if the Falcons should always be yours, I believe,” she said, looking over at him.

“Falcon the Fourth has a daughter that would be a good fit for you, then - Flyer. She’s fast, thus her name.” They both watched as Maz appeared at the front door, waving. 

“Is that a requirement of the lady of the house, to be at the front door?” Rey mused, wondering if that would be her job: to sit and wait on him.

Ben shook his head. “No. Maz is just an overprotective woman, loves me like I was her own.”

* * *

The castle was nice and toasty when they arrived back inside, and Maz rushed to help Rey with her coat and gloves. “Did the sable keep you warm, lassie?”

“Aye,” she replied, look over at Ben, who was being helped out of his own coat by someone she had not met yet. “And my gloves kept my hands so warm. I wanted to thank the person that made them or had them made.”

Maz smiled. “The laddie is the one that requested that you have riding gloves.” she said as she pulled them from Rey’s fingers. “He said a wife of his would need a pair if she was to spend any time with him and the horses.”

Rey looked over the Ben, whose eyes looked at her softly, kindly. “Ah, well… thank you, husband.”

His mouth closed, he smiled. “Of course,” he replied. 

How did she end up here, again?


	4. The Bloody Fool

They had dinner in a small dining room that evening. As Rey had seen earlier in the day, the castle housed a large ballroom and dining room with seating for fifty. She had especially enjoyed the library, oohing and ahhing over all of the new books she had to read. She noticed Ben pick a few large books from the shelves, placing them in his arms. _ “For later,” _he’d said, seeming to hide the contents from her. 

Now they were both in their respective rooms, being readied for bed by the staff. “Maz,” Rey asked as she sat at the vanity and Maz combed her freshly-washed hair, “Does the Duke have a mistress?”

Maz abruptly stopped and pulled the comb away. “Why would ye ever ask me such a thing, lassie?” She looked at Rey through the mirror.   
  
“A man of his station… it would only make sense.” Rey watched as Maz began combing her wet hair again. “I hope I’m not offending you, but I…” she hesitated, “I just needed to know. I have not known the Duke long, obviously, but I fear I’d be rather jealous.” 

Maz smiled gently at the girl. “To my knowledge, no, the laddie doesna have a mistress,” she said. “I shouldna be tellin’ ye this, but there were always rumors that his father had a mistress on Skye, but they were just that: rumors.” She looked over to the bed. “He loved the last Duchess with every breath he had, but he needed freedom - they both did, yet they were each others’ only loves.” 

Rey nodded. “You should ask him for yourself, if he has a mistress.”

Her eyes widened. “Ask him?” _She couldn’t ask him that!_

“Aye, if you’re so concerned, ask him. He is your husband, after all, although I can already tell you the answer, and it’s ‘no’, not with a bonnie lass like yourself as a wife.” 

_Absolutely not, _she thought.

* * *

Rey sat in a short-legged chair in her sitting room with her back to the fireplace, allowing her hair to dry. She had a book in her lap, reading a book that Ben had suggested for her._ “My mother loves this one - it’s apparently a romance,” _ he’d said as he handed it to her. _ Pride and Prejudice _ was on the spine, and it was by a woman, which Rey found odd but refreshing.

“Good evening,” she heard. She looked up to find Ben in the same clothes as last night, hair wet like hers, also from a fresh bath. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I have some things for you to look at,” he said as he sat down on the sofa in front of her. 

“Not at all,” she replied, standing. 

He patted on the spot next to him, silently asking her to sit down. “I pulled these atlases from the library, hoping that maybe we could look at them together. I’d like for us to go on a trip in January. We’d be gone for a few weeks, depending on where you’d want to go, and we would take the yacht, as to not have to deal with crowds.” 

She didn’t ask what a yacht was, but she assumed it was something to travel with.   
  
“The special thing about these atlases are that there are drawings of the places. I would take you to Asia if you wished, or the Americas, but I feel like we might be gone longer than we can be, at least in the allotted time that we have. I think, though that you might enjoy Paris,” he said, opening one up and showing her the drawings. “Paris is very different from Scotland, but I like it.” 

He told her of the grand hotels and shopping to be had in Paris, all the fine food, and the gardens. “When is your birthday?” he asked her. 

“I… I don’t really know,” she replied shyly. “I always thought it was the first of July, and I know that I’m nineteen.” 

“So you were born in 1811,” he said softly.   
  
“And yours?”   
  
He smirked. “It was earlier this month, actually. The eleventh of November, 1801.” He continued flipping the pages. “I always seem to be in Edinburgh for one thing or another that time of year. This year was no different.”   
  
“Happy late birthday, Ben,” she replied, patting his hand. 

“Thank you, just Rey.”

They went through the book, and she decided Paris seemed like a fun trip, for a few weeks… not that she had ever had a vacation. 

“Did you enjoy the tour today?” he asked. His robe had come open a bit, and he looked sort of romantic, like this Mister Darcy she’d been reading about this evening.   
  
She nodded enthusiastically. “I find it very kind that you wish to spend time with me, even though you do not know me well,” she said, looking into his eyes. She placed a hand on the side of her head as she leaned against the back of the couch.

He smirked. “And how would I otherwise get to know you?” he asked, mirroring her position. “Should I not get to know you? You are my wife now - please, expect my kindness.” She nodded once, confused. “This is how a man is supposed to treat his woman; how a gentleman treats a lady.”

She blushed, but did not look away. “You blush quite a bit, just Rey. Does your new husband embarrass you so?” If she weren’t so terrified of herself, she decided she’d close the small space between them and kiss him, but she’d only been kissed once, and that was just the day before. “Such a pretty thing, your blush.” 

There was no doubt that she was attracted to him. She’d thought him handsome, if not an exotic-looking man when she first met him, the day before she’d been made aware that he’d paid Plutt a large sum of money to let her go. That had been the last time she had seen him until the wedding, too. 

_ “The bloody fool must be mad to want to a puny, filthy girl like you as a bed wench,” _ Plutt had said, _ “when the lad is wealthier than the Crown and could have anyone in Britain.” _ Plutt considered her an indentured servant, since she’d been left there fourteen years prior. 

The only logical explanation to Rey was that he had found her seemingly attractive and he liked to take girls her age to bed. He wouldn’t have had to look far from Rey for that, if that was all he was interested in. There was a brothel down the street from the inn.

And, as terrified as she was at the prospect of going to bed with a man she did not know, and knowing that it was against God’s holy law to lay with a man that was not your husband, she decided that she’d rather have the fate of being a duke’s bed wench than continuing her life at that miserable inn. 

Then his mother came to pick her up, traveling with a coachman and a guard, and informed her of the upcoming wedding. _ “Did my son not tell you?” _

_ “No,” _ she had whispered, looking at her feet. _ He’d barely talked to her at all, truth be told. _

_ “Oh, dear girl!” _ she had taken both of her hands. _ “You are to be a duchess - not a… a… a whore!” _

She gave Rey no further details about why her son had purchased her freedom, or why her son wanted to marry a lowly, orphaned barmaid. 

Then, here she was, a bit over three weeks later, sitting in his home, in her own rooms, wearing a ring that he had given her, as his wife and duchess. 

Still blushing, she buried her head in her shoulder, looking away from him. “So innocent, is my wife, that she blushes further when her blush is mentioned,” he continued. “A bonnie lass, is my wife.” She looked back up at him, not able to bear it any longer. “Has no one told you’re that you’re a beautiful thing, Rey?” 

She shook her head. “Not anyone that I wanted to hear it from, no.” Had she wanted to hear it from him? She barely knew the man. It made no sense, but he did look rather handsome tonight.

“I had a great time with you today,” he said, changing the subject. “I love Chandrila, and I love Scarif. I look forward to showing you more - you should know your home.”

“I enjoyed it too,” she insisted, watching as a drop of water fell off of a lock of his hair. “Shouldn’t we sit closer to the fire? Both of our heads are wet.”

He nodded, and they both stood from the couch and walked over to sit on the floor before the fire. Ben grabbed two blankets from the sofa and pillows having yet to join Rey on the floor. “Whisky?” he asked. She nodded in response, watching as he went to grab a bottle and two glasses. 

He returned, and the way his eyes set on her caused her heart to flutter. “Are you blushing again, dear wife, or is that the same blush from earlier?” 

She didn’t reply, which she figured was an answer enough. He sat down next to her and poured her a glass, handing it to her. “As I said earlier, you must get used to my compliments. I won't lie and tell you that I'm not attracted to you, because I very much am, but I'm also not a brute. I meant what I said earlier, Rey: I want children, but I won’t have them with an unwilling wife.” 

She was a barmaid in an inn: she was privy to what it took to make children - she’d walked in on enough couples in the act in her efforts to change sheets. She felt like the time was now to ask about a mistress - if he had one. 

“Ben, I… I do have a question about this,” she said.   
  
He placed his glass on the stone before the fire. “Do you not know what happens in a marriage bed?”

She huffed, frustrated. “Why does everyone assume that I’m that naive?” she asked. “I worked in an inn - of course I know.”

He smiled before he laughed, picking up his glass and clinking it to the one in her hand. “Slange var,” he said. “What’s your quandry?” 

“I have seemed to have forgotten,” she lied (and likely not convincingly), taking another sip. She’d find out about a mistress some other way.

* * *

  
Minutes turned into hours, and Rey was sure that it was past midnight. “I believe you are drunk, wife,” he said, smirking as she touched his cheek.   
  
“A little is all,” she insisted, laying back down on the pillow on the floor. 

“A bewitching sight, too,” he said, “but I fear I must go to bed, and you as well.” He rose to his knees before picking her up. “Off to bed with you.”

Rey yawned, unladylike of her. “I’m not that sleepy.”

“Maybe you are not, but I am,” he replied, carrying her through her sitting room and to her turned-down bed. He sat her on it before he pulled down the covers, ushering her to climb in. 

“Are you not joining me?” she asked, batting her lashes.   
  
He chuckled, looking away. “Now it’s my turn to blush,” he mused. “I didn’t take you for a temptress, Rey, at least not yet.” 

She hummed, laying down and turning toward him. “Don’t husbands and wives sleep in the same bed?” she asked. “You can sleep here without_ that_.”

“Too much whisky makes you very friendly, wife.” He sat on the edge of the bed, amused by her actions. “As appetizing an offer you’re presenting,” he confessed, trying not to notice that he could see her stiff nipples through her chemise, “I think you’ll like me better if I sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“And why is that?” 

He stood and blew out her bedside candle before walking to throw another log in her bedroom fireplace. “I fear you would be terrified of me in the morning.”

She sat up to watch his shadow move about the room. “And why might I be terrified of you when I wake up?” 

He chuckled again, approaching his door, opening it. “To claim to know what happens in a marriage bed, you do not seem to know how the coupling comes to be,” he jested, walking through and closing the door, not to be heard from again that night.

Now it was Rey that felt like _the bloody fool_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where do you think these birds will end up? I've never written such a slow burn (but is it really? By the end of chapter 4, she has only spent two nights at Scarif.), but I'm enjoying myself.


	5. The Dress

Rey lay in bed that night, asking God to forgive her for her drunkenness, and for whatever it was she had said that had made her husband not want to come into her bed.

_ Do you really want him in your bed? You barely know him. _

But he was her husband, and wasn’t that what husbands and wives did? _ You’re not the typical couple, _ she mused. _ He bought you! _

_ Although, he did confess that he found you attractive… _

She tossed and turned, beginning to sober and hate herself.

* * *

She was awoken the next morning by the sound of pipes outside. The sun was beginning to rise, but that was eight in the morning in the Highlands, she mused, looking at the large clock across the room, laminated by the dwindling fire. 

She stood from the bed and looked down onto the patio which stood above the gardens, watching in awe as her husband tapped his right foot, keeping his own rhythm as he played Scots Wha Hae - she knew the tune, and there was likely not a soul in the country who didn’t know it. Right beneath her window, no less.

“He is a bonnie piper, is he not? Just like his uncle,” she heard from behind her. Maz has entered the room.

“Yes, he plays so well,” she replied, looking over to Maz. “He told me he could play - I wasn’t expecting to be woken up by it.”

Maz snickered. “Aye, wonder why he decided to play right below your window?” 

Rey didn’t catch that Maz’s question had also been the answer. 

“Well, up and at-em with ya, lass. The laddie is taking you to into town today so you can pick a pattern for your party dress,” she said, ushering Rey over to the vanity. Maz handed her a wet rag, urging to to clean her face. “I need to get your waist measurement for a party dress - it’ll be a bit tighter than usual day wear.”

Rey’s eyes widened in question. “Would a party dress require me to have a smaller waist?” she asked, wincing as Maz combed a knot out. 

“It’s the fashion. I’m sending you with fabric, since it’s obviously not something they’d have in the shop,” Maz explained. 

“I don’t think a wool party dress sounds too comfortable,” Rey replied, beginning to scrub at her face with the rag. She heard Maz snicker behind her. She sure was in a lovely mood. 

“No - not wool like your skirt or his kilts. This is taffeta,” she said. Rey had no idea what taffeta was, but from the way everything else in Ben’s life was, it was probably very nice. “I’ll have to send for more material from Edinburgh - this dress will almost run us dry of it.”

“I don’t need it to be tartan,” Rey insisted, putting the rag down. “He’s spoiled me enough with all of this.” She waved her hands at everything, smiling gently. 

"No, the laddie was insistent that you wear his dress tartan - your tartan now, too, mind you, and so you shall. Besides, you don’t have a party dress yet.” Rey nodded in quiet agreement. She thanked Hera as a cart with tea and scones was rolled in. 

Maz finished with her braid, making her stand and stripping her of her chemise. Rey stood naked before the fire, still unused to the idea of this amount of nudity before someone. 

With a new chemise, Maz reached for the corset. “We’ll loosen it before we put the dress on ya, lassie, but remember, this is how tied-up you’ll be on Christmas Eve.”

Rey followed Maz over to the bedpost, wincing as she went tighter and tighter. “Maz,” they heard from the other room. “Are you torturing my wife?” Rey could hear the jovialness of his tone. 

“Beauty is pain, laddie,” Maz yelled back. 

“Well, do try not to kill her. She’s rather precious to me,” he said back, causing Rey to blush.

“Eighteen inches,” she said a minute later, rolling back the measuring tape. “I’ll write that down in your measurements, and you’ll take it with you to town.”

“How will I ever stand this for hours?” Rey asked. “I’m only used to stays - my wedding dress wasn’t even that tight.” 

Maz chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. Now, let’s loosen you up.”

* * *

Rey made her way down the stairs in her wool dress, sable coat, and riding gloves. Her new shoes were a bit more dainty than the boots yesterday, and Rey couldn’t see why someone would need more than a pair… 

“Ah - I see Maz showed you some of the jewels,” Ben said. She hadn’t even noticed him at the bottom of the stairs. “That necklace was my grandmother’s.” Rey thought back to picking it from the drawer - a strand of white pearls. “I’m glad you like them.” 

She smiled back, nodding, taking his hand as she reached the bottom of the grand staircase. “Your piping was so lovely this morning,” Rey exclaimed, beaming up at him. “What a bonnie way to wake up.”

He let go of her hand only to place it on her lower back to lead her outside. “I’m glad you enjoyed it - I’ll remember to do it more often,” he said. “I’ve gone ahead and had the horses and cart brought forward. Maz packed us another lunch. Should be a two-hour trip into town.” Rey nodded, noticing Falcon the Fourth and Flyer were there. “Let’s double-check that she packed the- ah, yes, there it is,” he said gayly. 

“My measurements are in my coat pocket,” she said, petting Falcon as she had the day before, looking over at Flyer. 

“Come along, just Rey; we’ve no time to waste.” Rey walked over to him and he helped her onto the cart seat, following behind. 

“So you liked my piping, eh?” he said, not having to do much steering as the road was straight. 

“I did - you’re very talented,” she said, squeezing his hand back. 

“I knew Maz would be waking you up soon, and I thought that would be more pleasant than her barging into your room.” 

“Aye, it was.” Snow had begun to fall, and Rey was thankful for the bonnet that Maz had put her in; she looked back at the fabric to find it covered by a blanket. 

“Your fabric will be just fine, wife,” he said, patting her knee. “Do you mind if I help you pick a style?” 

Rey nodded. “I have no idea what to ask for, so I figured that you would help me.”

Ben lifted his hand from her knee, taking the reins back into both hands. “Ultimately the decision is yours, but there is a style I’ve been wanting to see you in.” 

She blushed that he had thought about her in a particular style of dress. “Alright,” she replied. “I trust you.”

“Seeing you in my tartan yesterday - I’ve dreamt of seeing my own wife in my tartan since I was still practically a bairn, since I knew that it was reserved for my wife. And you looked bonnie in it, too. I think you would look beautiful in anything, though.” He had a sweet smirk on his lips.

He’d seen her in rags and dirt on her face. Could she really be that bonnie?

She watched as his wavy-curly hair moved in the wind. “You’re handsome, too,” she said, looking up at him.

Now it was his turn to blush. “I’m glad you think so, because it would be a shame if I thought you to be the most beautiful woman on earth, and you found me a beast,” he said, his smirk turning into a smile. 

He was exotic-looking: a Roman nose, thick, pillow-like lips, hair like a raven’s feathers, thick and black, and awfully tall. A truly gorgeous man. God was truly looking out for her, it seemed.

_ Well, at least his mistress could never wear the Chandrilan tartan… _

* * *

Dornoch was a town about the size of Glenshee, which was not big at all. The dressmaker’s shop was at the center of town, and Rey stood by the shop window and waited on Ben to get the fabric from the cart. The most vibrant dress Rey had ever seen in her life stood in the window. “That one is certainly bright,” she heard Ben say behind her. 

“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered, not even turning around to look at him - the red was too stunning to take her eyes away from it, at least not abruptly. She heard the smile in his voice when he spoke again.

“I’m sure that we-”

“No, do not get it for me,” she stammered, turning around. “You have spent too much on me already, and you’re getting ready to spend more.”

He placed a thumb on her chin. “Rey, I could afford to buy you every dress in Britain, and you’re telling me not to buy you a second one?”

Rey’s eyes hardened. “That’s right.” Her lips were in a straight line.

“If you insist,” he said, smirking down at her. “Stubborn, young wife.”

He led her into the dress shop, a bell chiming as they did. “Hello?” they heard from the back. Ben said nothing, waiting on the shop clerk. “Oh, your grace! I’m so sorry!”

It was the first time that Rey had heard anyone address him as “his grace.” 

“Miss Connix, no need to be embarrassed.” Ben walked over to where the books of designs were. “I have recently married - this is my wife, Rey,” he said, his hand still on her back. Rey offered her gloved hand, and Miss Connix seemed shocked, but accepted the gesture. “Rey will need a dress for Christmas Eve, and I was hoping that you could be of service - mother has always admired your work.”

“Of course, your grace - your mother is such a good customer, and I guess you will be now, too,” she said toward Rey. “I see you brought fabric. I recognize this!” She took the fabric from underneath Ben’s arm. “Duchess Rey, have a look through the design books and see what you fancy.”

Rey nodded, walking toward the stack of books as Miss Connix went back with the fabric. “Ben, I have no idea what the style is,” she said. “I wish I did not need your help for everything.”

He brushed it off. “Nonsense - I enjoy being needed.” He picked up a book, flipping through it. “The style I had thought about seeing you in had big sleeves and a tight waist,” he mused, flipping through the book. She tried to hide the small smile threatening to appear on her lips - _ he had thought about this dress quite a bit, hadn’t he? _ “Aye, just like this.” 

He pointed at the drawing and Rey nodded enthusiastically.

* * *

Rey had handed Miss Connix her measurements and the woman smiled softly. “A slender woman, you are.” There was no need that she needed to know how Rey had fought for any scrap of food until she was fifteen. “Since you’re bringing me the fabric, that’ll be five pounds,” Miss Connix said, smiling. Rey’s eyes widened. Five pounds for a dress! That was outrageous. 

“Of course,” Ben said casually, pulling out a purse from his coat pocket. “It’s very important that the dress be ready s week before Christmas Eve.” Miss Connix nodded, looking over the design once more. “Rey will be a good customer, I’m sure.” 

“I would hope,” Miss Connix said. “Now with your mother in the next town, I din’ know what I’d do without it.”

* * *

“Thank you for my new dress,” Rey said, looking up at him as they headed toward the distillery, back toward home. 

“I believe I’m more excited for it than you are for this dress. I’ve waited-” he paused, looking down at her, “I’ve waited a long time to see you in this tartan.” 

Rey suddenly felt as if she’d been waiting a long time on it, too.


	6. My Thistle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter, but the story of it was very self-contained. When I continued writing beyond this chapter, it felt wrong to put it into this story. The thistle-theme of it really works and I did not want to detract from that angle. 
> 
> Shortly I will make a post of pictures of dresses Rey wears, Rey's ring, and a few other things. There are some things I do not want to show, because as a reader myself, I like to be able to imagine certain aspects. I want you to decide what Scarif looks like, what the rooms look like, and so on. I know what their rooms look like, but that's my fun as a writer - I want to share that fun with you in allowing you to create them for yourself. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think, and thank you for commenting and reading my story.

They picked up more bottles of what Ben was calling ‘her favorite’ whisky from his distillery on the way home from town, but Rey was happy to get back to Scarif. 

She sat in Ben’s office and read while he did what he a bit of paperwork involving the horses. She did not understand much about horse breeding yet, but Ben assured her that she would soon enough. 

Maz came in with afternoon tea, smiling at the sight of Ben and his wife in the same room. “I just occurred to me: why did anyone not remind me to get yarn and needles for Rey today?” he asked the older woman.    


“Laddie, yer wife coulda told ya that herself,” she said, winking at Rey. 

Ben looked up from his paperwork. “Yes. Why did you not say anything? We could have picked you up whatever it was you needed.” 

Rey took her eyes off of her book. “You spent five pounds on a dress for me - I wasn’t about to ask you for yarn and needles after you spent all of that money.” 

Maz shot Ben a look and smiled gently, as if to convey something, but Rey wasn’t sure what the message was. 

“Rey, I told you today I could buy you every dress in Britain,” he said, “so please, I implore you, know that I can buy you needles and yarn.” 

She blushed, a smidge embarrassed, looking back down at her book. “That’s not the point. I don’t care how much money you have; you spent enough on me today. You needn’t spend anymore for a very long time.” 

Ben smiled up at Maz. “You see, Maz, my wife is like a thistle: beautiful but prickly.” He looked over at Rey, whom had yet to meet his gaze. “Fragrant, tempting, vibrant, beautiful, and don’t forget: prickly.” 

Rey took her eyes off of her book once more. “Did you honestly just compare me to a thistle?” 

“The flower of this great land? Yes I did. Any good Scotswoman is like a thistle - and the most thistly is my mother.” Maz nodded in response.    
  
“Aye, laddie. That she is.” Maz looked over at Rey, still beet-red, reading her book. “Well, I bes’ be leavin’ you two.” 

Maz left, and Rey sat in silence, embarrassed, but all the while pleased. 

_ He called me beautiful again. _

* * *

Rey sat on the sofa before her sitting room fire, reading more about her new favorite people, Elizabeth and Darcy. “Come in,” she said to the knock at her open door, knowing it was Ben. 

“I come bearing whisky,” he said, walking toward her. She heard the two glasses clinging. “I reserve the right to stop you, though - you are my wife, and I vowed to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.” 

Rey didn’t dwell too much on the fact that he had referenced that specific line from their vows twice in three evenings. 

“I do apologize about that,” she said as he sat down next to her. “I’ve not had much whisky before.”

He smirked as he sat down the glasses. “And we are working to change that, aren’t we, just Rey?” 

“I suppose.” She marked her spot and put down her book. “Thank you,” Rey said as she took a glass from him.

“Sip slowly - it’s not going away,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Trust me, we stocked up enough today to last us a half a year.” 

She thought about how the next day was to be the last day of the month; Maz told her that the staff would start decorating for Christmas on the first. 

“Would you like to go riding with me tomorrow?” Ben asked, watching her. 

“You are going to get tired of me,” she said, meeting his gaze. 

“Are you beginning to tired of me?” 

She shook her head -  _ No _ , she quite enjoyed his company. 

“That’s a relief,” he said, as if he meant it sincerely. “I worked today and made sure that all of my affairs were in order so that we could spend the next few months together, although surely some paperwork will appear." He took another sip, letting it sit on his tongue for a bit before speaking again. "March gets busy because that is when about when the barley is picked for the whisky, which I like to have a hand in. We’ll have a few colts and fillies born in April, or we should, and then we will head to London in May, only to come back in June and see to it that the able-bodied mares are paired with Falcon the Fifth. The Fourth is getting a little too old for all of that attention, but we’ll let him do what he wants.” Ben smirked and looked away, obviously thinking about the conquests of his horse. “I’ve thought about seeing if Flyer and Fifth might like to court,” he jested. “We could be their chaperones.” 

“Will anyone bring their mares by to see your stallions this year?” she asked. 

“Falcon the Fifth’s dance card is very full for the season,” Ben said. “Falcon the Fourth, when he raced, had a stud fee of almost twelve-thousand pounds,” he said, watching as Rey’s mouth opened in shock.    
  
“What if the mare doesn’t conceive?” she asked, bewildered. 

“Well, I cannot quite take someone’s word for it, with such a sum, so I personally - if available - go to check if the mare is indeed not pregnant, and I refund them their money; at least one of my boys had a good time.” He watched as Rey took another sip. “If I cannot go, I send my father’s business partner, and now mine, Mr. Bacchus to go check on the mare. If a mare miscarries or delivers a dead horse, I also send back the money, but again, I do go to check.”

“Do most breeders do what you do, with the money?” she asked him. 

He shook his head. “No, but some do,” he said, “and it encourages them to come back and try again. Falcon the Fifth hasn’t been racing yet, but soon, so his price is a bit lower than Fourth’s was. Next year, perhaps; I think he’ll have the speed of his father.”

Ben and Rey sat there in comfortable silence. “You like the book?” Ben’s eyes darted over to the book in her lap. 

“Oh, yes!” she said. “I very much do.” She was not too far into the book, but she knew already that she would be crushed if Lizzy didn’t end up with Fitzwilliam Darcy. “Thank you for getting it out for me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, patting her knee. He looked back at the ring on her finger, admiring it. “Do you like your ring, Rey?”

She held up her hand, admiring it herself. “It’s stunning,” she replied, watching as his eyes twinkled in the firelight. “Although I must confess, I do not have much to compare it to.” She had caught herself watching it sparkle in the sun over the last three days, still not entirely sure why it sat on her hand. 

“That ring has a very interesting history." She scooted closer to him. “My maternal grandfather gave it to my grandmother on their wedding day.” 

Rey looked back down at the ring -  _ He would give such a priceless family heirloom to me? _

“My grandmother died before my mother and uncle - who are twins, mind you, were even five minutes old. My grandfather did his best to raise them, but needless to say, their childhoods were not easy. He died when they were nineteen, leaving my uncle a duke at a very young age.”

Rey listened intently, hanging onto every word. “My dad saw this as a weak spot of my uncle’s, and - I told you how my parents met - decided he could dispute the property lines with a young lad and eventually win, but he had not expected for a fiery woman of five-foot-one to be there, nor to fall for my her at all. Uncle Luke told my father that he’d never use the ring, as he had no desire to marry, and that his sister had long admired it. He’d let him have it to propose to his sister with for no charge at all, if only…”

She leaned in, “He’d let the property line be.” She smiled as soon as Ben did, nodding. 

“Correct,” he said, his smile bright, wide, and charmingly crooked. “Now, no one is really sure where the ring came from, but it has special meaning to my family, nonetheless.” Ben looked from the ring and back to Rey’s eyes. 

“And you would give this to me?” she asked, in awe. 

“My mother insisted,” he said softly, taking her left hand in his. “I did not wish to make her part with it, but, she would’na have it any other way.” He laced their fingers together. “I will buy you your own ring, if you don’t like wearing my mother-”

“Ben,” she whispered. “You are… do not say such things. I really, truly love it.” He touched the side of her head, and she leaned into the feeling. “I was a barmaid until almost a month ago, and now I have everything I could ever need and more, and it is quite overwhelming, to be honest. ” She was quiet, as if she couldn’t believe she was speaking these feelings. “And you’ve been… you’ve been so kind to me. You’ve treated me as if I am special.”

“You are special, Rey,” he replied, “I called you precious today, if you do not remember. You are precious to me. Please do your best not to forget it.” 

She laced her arms around him in an embrace, and was relieved and terrified all at once when she felt him hold her back. “Rey,” he spoke softly into her hair, as if her name was holy, as if it were a blessing.

* * *

The next day, Rey woke up to the pipes once more, and a thistle brooch on her nightstand, with a note: 

_ For my thistle. - Ben _


	7. The Anger

**Mid-December, northern Highlands of Scotland, 1830**

* * *

It had been two weeks since their wedding, and a light dusting of snow had appeared on the garden outside of her window. She still lay in bed, stretching and lounging - it was a Saturday.

She heard the door connecting her room to Ben’s open up. “Ah, you’re awake,” he said softly. 

“I am,” she answered, now used to seeing each other in her chemise and his nightshirt and pants with no robe. 

“It is very cold, and I came to see if you had a big enough fire.” He walked toward her fireplace, picking up another log and throwing it in. “How did you sleep?”

“Just fine,” she answered, watching as he walked back toward the door. “Yourself?”

He hummed, looking over at her, sitting up in bed. “I slept alright, but not great. I kept waking up chilly, worrying about you, but I didn’t want to scare you by coming over here to add more logs to your fire in the middle of the night.” She remembered all of the inn servants used to push their beds together when it was cold, to conserve heat. “I even thought of going into the whisky cabinet and drinking for warmth, but I decided I did not want to be drunk by morning.”

She giggled at him and fell back down in the bed, wondering if it would be enough to get his attention. 

_ Why would I do such a thing? _

_ I have developed a liking for him. _

“Are you planning on going back to sleep, wife?” he asked. She’d never had the luxury of sleeping in, and upon realizing this, Ben sent the instructions to the household staff, to not disturb them on Saturday until signaled. 

“I’m well-rested, but I’m not ready to be wrestled into a corset just yet,” she answered, earning a smile from him. 

“We could ride into Dornoch today.” He walked toward her bed. “I am sure your Christmas Eve dress is ready, knowing Miss Connix, and we could get your yarn and needles.”

Rey wanted yarn to make Ben a scarf for Christmas - she had no time for a sweater, but maybe she could make him one later. “That would be nice.” 

“I’ll have Maz arrange for us to be taken into town in the carriage, on account of the snow.” He sat on her bed, watching her. “Although, you look so cozy, wife, you are tempting me to join you for a nap. Maz will wonder what we’ve gotten ourselves into when neither of us opens our doors.” 

She blushed but did not turn away, and instead held his gaze. “I could sleep more,” she said. 

“Well, allow me to go get my book and I will sit here with you,” he said, dropping her gaze and walking to the other room before quickly reappearing. He sat down on the bed, parallel to her own body. 

Rey sighed in contentment and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would find her once more.

* * *

Later that day, they headed into town in the carriage they arrived at Scarif in on their wedding day. 

“We received a letter this morning.” Rey looked up at Ben, a touch of concern on her face. “Mother has written to us, requesting we come to Theed this week, if only for a night,” he said, watching her from across the carriage. “T’would also give you an opportunity to meet my uncle before the holiday.” 

Rey nodded. “I suppose we can pack when we get home this evening,” she replied softly. 

“Maz will pack for us. You will relax, wife,” he said with a smirk. “You’ll have knitting to attend to, I’m sure of it, and I’d rather like to watch you knit - I’ve never seen anyone do it before.” 

Rey was confused why they would want them to visit so shortly after their wedding, but she welcomed the idea of a trip, regardless. “You want to watch me knit?”

“Aye, I do.” He smirked, “You did say it was one of your favorite things to do.”

She would tell him that it has been a necessity later. “It is.” She had grown to love it, but the hobby started from need. 

The trip to Dornoch was peaceful, calm, and happy - Rey quite liked spending time with her husband, and he seemed to enjoy her company, as well. 

Rey noticed an addition on his belt. “What’s that on your belt?” 

“Ah,” he said, pulling his jacket back a bit. “My pistol.” 

“Why would you need one here? There’s no one,” Rey exclaimed, pointing outside.  
  
“Lass, the Highlands might be beautiful, but they are also ugly. One never knows what kind of trouble they will run into on the road.” Rey nodded. 

“And you’ve carried that with you every time we’ve left Scarif?” she asked. 

“Aye. Can’t have any more trouble - you’re trouble enough,” he said with a wink, earning a smile from her.

* * *

“Do you want your husband to see the you in the dress, your grace?” asked Miss Connix.  
  
Rey stood in a mirror, admiring herself in this dress that had been made to her specifications. She was on the verge of tears at how beautiful it was. “No, I think I’d quite like him to wait until the party,” she said, smiling gently at Miss Connix. “And please, since I’m sure we’ll be working together quite a bit, call me Rey, I beg you - at least in private. I don’t feel comfortable with the formality, at least not yet.” 

Miss Connix nodded. “So it’s not true - you’re not the daughter of a Lowland lord?” 

Rey chuckled, covering her mouth. “No, no, I am not.” 

“Well, if all of us could be as lucky as to marry a man such as the duke, then,” she mused, smiling at Rey. “He’s good to you, is he not?”

Rey nodded. “He’s very, very kind to me.” She could hear her husband flipping pages loudly in the other room, surely thinking of new dresses Rey could need and for what occasion, for he’d figured out by now that saying he wanted to buy her a dress simply because he liked it was out of the question.

“Your grace,” Miss Connix said, opening the door so Ben could hear, “her grace has decided to not let you see her in this dress until Christmas Eve, but my, she looks bonnie.” 

“Really, Rey?” she heard him say in agony as he stood from his chair. “I cannot see it?”

“No!” Rey replied, laughing, “You will see me in it in two weeks, time.”

She heard her husband sit back down. “Aye, of course, thistle.”

Miss Connix gave Rey a strange look as she shut the door. “He calls you ‘thistle’?” 

“He does,” Rey replied with a smile, giggling. “That he does.”

* * *

Ben watched in curious fascination that night as Rey began work on a scarf. “Will you quit staring at me, please?” she asked politely. 

He turned away. “I’m sorry, I’ve just… I’ve never seen somebody work so quickly with their hands.” He smirked to himself, “It’s rather remarkable.”

Rey sighed. “Has anyone not ever made you anything before?”

“Mother embroidered by initials on things from time to time,” he said quietly, going back to watching her knit, “but if I had a sweater knit for me, it was by someone who was paid to do it.”

The man who had it all, and no one had made him a damn thing. “Well, I’ll make you something then, but you have to wear it,” she agreed, putting down her knitting to look up at him. This scarf was already his, but he needn’t know it.

“Just Rey, I’d wear anything you gave me,” he said, and she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

She continued knitting into the evening until dinner was served and she had to put her work down. The staff had discovered that Rey particularly liked rack of lamb as she’d had on her first night at Scarif, and she happily ate every bit on her plate that evening, too.

* * *

Rey went into her rooms to help Maz pack - she couldn’t let the older woman do it alone.  
  
“Alright, Lassie, now have you asked the laddie about the mistress yet?” she asked Rey. 

Rey’s cheeks became red - a common thing for her. “I have not,” she replied quickly, turning toward the jewels, looking at all that Leia had left for her. “When did the duchess move to Theed?” Rey desperately wanted to change the subject. 

“The last of her belongings were gone the day that you arrived with the Duke, lass.” she heard Maz say. Rey became still - Leia had… she had… no wonder she was so keen to see her son - they’d lived together for quite a long time. 

“Were these her rooms until she left?” Rey asked. She turned back around and watched Maz shake her head. 

“Oh, no. She moved to a suite on the other side of the castle to give the laddie his space - to make sure he felt like he was the Lord of the place, and not being looked after by his mother; but, the Duchess being the Duchess, she was looking after her boy. That’s her nature. She would go to London from time to time, but she never stayed too terribly long. I suspect she’ll still go. Ben would never forbid her from using the house there.” 

Rey nodded, watching as Maz continued to pack. “I am nervous to meet this uncle,” she admitted. “Ben said he’ll likely chastise us for not going to church the day after our wedding if he finds out. We’ve been every Sunday since.” 

Maz snickered. “And you’re not going tomorrow, either. Aye, he probably will give you both a good talking to, and he’ll be sure to tell you that your children will need to attend services as soon as possible.” 

Rey thought about children - they hadn’t really even kissed yet, unless that short thing at their wedding counted as a kiss. Certainly there were no children on the horizon. “I did not go to church much as a girl, but I did read the Bible quite a few times through.” And Rey believed - she believed in Christ just as much as she believed that she breathed air. She’d survived on prayer and God had eventually pulled her from that awful inn and into the security of her now-husband. 

“That can’t’ve been too entertaining as a child,” Maz replied.  
  
“It was all I had,” Rey whispered to herself. Maz surely knew.

* * *

Ben and Rey sat in comfortable silence that evening, as Ben read to Rey while she knit his scarf. Rey listened as he read Sense and Sensibility. “I don’t like this Edward like I liked Mr. Darcy,” Rey mused. “Mr. Darcy was just so perfect.”

Ben paused his reading. “Oh, really? And what about the lad was so ‘perfect,’ as you said?” He relished in watching her cheeks become pink. 

“Well, he wasn’t perfect in the beginning, but he came around.” He watched as Rey continued on about Darcy. 

“You seem so very taken with him - I hope you do not leave me for the man,” Ben jested. Rey’s smile fell. “What is it, thistle?”

“I… I…” She stood, walking toward the fire. She couldn’t bear to look at him. _What if… what if…_

“Rey, darling, what is it?” Ben put the book down and stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “What is it? Be honest with me.”

She turned around to face him, a tear streaming down her face. “Ben,” she paused, “do you have a mistress?” 

He placed a hand on her cheek, a tender and sad look on his face. “Sweet Rey, no.” 

She bowed her head and shook his hand from her cheek. “It would make sense, given your station, and I'm nobody,” she mused. 

“Rey, I’ve no mistress,” he said, taking her free hand. “Look at me, please.” 

She looked up at him, another tear falling from her right eye. “I think I might die with jealousy if you did!” He wiped the tears from her cheek, smiled, and he seemed relieved when she gently smiled back. “You’re my husband,” she replied.  
  
“So I am, wife,” he answered. “You’re blushing again.” She turned away, still smiling, and Ben laughed in reply. “I will never tire of it, I promise you, but we should discuss this matter further.”

“My blushing?” she asked, facing him again.  
  
“No,” he replied, “mistresses.” 

“Oh,” she quieted. “You plan on taking one.”

He shook his head. “I do not, but I _ have _ had one, Rey.” She looked at him, disappointment flooding her features. “My father never had one, but my father’s father did, and then… me.” Rey felt herself getting jealous, that her husband had lain with another, while she was to only ever be his - would he ever be wholly hers? “I was twenty, in London. She was a few years older than I, a Spanish woman. Bazine. She…” he paused, looking at her, “she taught me what it meant to be with a woman, how to pleasure a woman. You might one day want to thank her-”

“I very highly doubt it,” Rey said sternly, crossing her arms.

Ben continued, “I continued to see her until I was twenty three years. She was an unmarried woman with no intention of ever rectifying that, and she liked the freedom and others things that our arrangement allowed her.” 

“And what ‘_other things_’ did it allow her?” Rey asked, noticing the hint of venom in her own voice.  
  
“Gifts, security, and companionship, all without commitment,” he replied, still watching Rey. “Please don’t be angry with me.” 

Rey met his gaze. “I will never be able to please you as she did.”

Ben tilted his head. “Why would you say that?” 

“You said it yourself, that I might know what goes on in a marriage bed, but I have no idea how one gets there,” she exclaimed, walking away from him. “Pray tell, husband, but how would one get to the marriage bed?”

He chuckled, darkly. “Rey, I’m not-”

“Ah, so _ that _ is why you will not come to my bed. Because I’m a virgin!” 

Ben shook his head. “That is not true,” he said calmly. “I told you on our wedding night that I wouldn’t take an unwilling woman to bed.”

“I am not unwilling now,” she replied quickly, uncrossing her arms. 

He snickered, but Rey could tell that he wasn’t amused - he was frustrated. “You’ve known me for what, a month and a half? We didn’t have our first real conversation until our trip back to Scarif. Rey, it has been two weeks - I know it sometimes feels as if we’ve known each other for an eternity, sometimes longer, at least to me, but we have not.”

Rey scoffed, a mischievous glint in her eye. “And how long had you known your mistress before you went to her bed?”

“That is not the same thing,” he replied quickly, walking toward her. 

Rey unknowingly had backed herself into the wall, feeling a tapestry against her back as a shock. “And how is it not?”

“It just is not,” he said as he approached her. “You know, you are really living up to that prickly aspect of being a thistle at the moment.” He stood right in front of her now. Rey rolled her eyes, the anger starting to set in, “Oh, this is the fire I’ve been dying to see.”

“You would dare to make fun of my jealous feelings… over _you_?” 

“If you only knew how many moments,” he whispered before stopping himself. 

“How long had you known her before you _ knew _ her biblically?” Rey asked. 

Ben smirked. “I don’t think anything we did was ‘biblical’-” 

“Answer me!” Rey screamed, uglily, earning a shocked look from her husband. Little did she know that she was sporting one, too. 

“I…” he paused, looking her in the eyes. 

Rey touched his face gently, but he pulled her hand away, walking toward the door. “Ben, I’m so-”

He held onto the brass door knob, looking at the floor before meeting her gaze again. “I knew her for a day.” Rey laughed at herself as she began to cry again, embarrassed that she was showing him these kinds of emotions. “But I never - not once - wanted her to be my wife. I never fancied the slightest idea of it,” he said. “That’s only ever been you. It was always _only you_.” 

Rey heard him walk through her room and into his own, shutting the door.

* * *

For the first time since their marriage, Rey went to bed angry.


	8. The Bandits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but I wanted it to be separate from what is to come in the next, even though they are connected. 
> 
> Please don't hate me for the last chapter! Ben's an ass, but be doesn't mean to be. You'll see!

“Rey,” she heard at her door. She looked at her clock - it was just after three in the morning. “Please, talk to me.” She pretended to ignore him. “Oh, come on,” he drug out. Was he… was he drunk? “I haven’t seen or heard from her in three years,” Ben said. “I know you’re awake. I can hear you walking around.” Rey walked toward the door, opening it. “Ah, there’s my thistle.”

“I am not_ your _ thistle, and I am barely even your wife,” she said, not walking away. 

“As I was_ saying _,” he stammered, a glint of want in his eyes that she’d seen a few times before. “I haven’t had any contact with her in years. I don’t know what she’s doing or who she’s doing it with-”

“Not helping, Benjamin,” Rey interjected. She grabbed the door handle, ready to slam the door in his face.

“I was a young lad, and as most men like myself at Oxford-”

“And I am sure that most men at Oxford didn’t buy a wife from an inn!” she said, slinging the door closed. 

“You just about broke my nose, sweetheart,” he said, laughing. He opened the door again and leaned on the doorframe so that she couldn’t shut him out. 

“You can call me Just Rey, my thistle, wife, sweetheart, darling… any name on Earth, and none of them will get me to forgive you at the moment,” she said, exhausted. “I expected you to have a mistress, Ben, I did.”

“Then why act the way you did?” he asked her.

“_ The way I did? _ Ben, you told me that I’d want to _ thank _ her, and quite honestly, I want to kill her, and I think I’ll kill you, too, while I’m at it.” He smirked at her, which made her want to kill him even more.

“Do you want some whisky?” Ben asked, sloppily. 

“Absolutely not. And if you drink anymore, I’ll cancel the trip to Theed tomorrow,” she replied. 

He straightened up, a look of annoyance on his features. “Since when did you take over this castle?” 

Rey rolled her eyes. “Since you told me that it was my duty, as its-” She stopped herself.

“Yes, yes,” he replied, walking into her room and sitting on the small sofa before the fire. “I suppose I did.”

“I didn’t say you could come in here, Benjamin,” Rey said, watching as he made himself comfortable. 

Ben watched her from the sofa. “You look so gorgeous, my thistle,” he said, a real smile on his face. “When you’ll illuminated in firelight like you are now, you glow.” 

“Flattery will not get you out of this,” she said. 

“It’s our first lover’s spat, Rey,” he said, “If you believe this to be bad, you should’ve been present for a few of Han and Leia’s.”  
  
“Han?” she asked. “But you said your father’s name was Buchanan.”

“Han is short for Buchanan,” he said. “I would hate to know how many fights they had in this room.”

“That doesn’t make anything you said to me okay,” she replied, turning away from him. “Now when we do… make love,” she was nervous, “all I’ll be able to think about is your buxom Spanish lover.” Ben wanted to laugh at that, but he did not act on it. “That’s something that is sacred between husbands and wives.”

She couldn’t see Ben’s face. “You sound like my uncle.” 

“Am I wrong?” She turned back around to face him.

“No, I suppose you’re not. But I was… I was a young man, trying to be a young man, and it was…” he stood, walking toward her. “It was what most of my peers were doing.”

“If most of your peers went and tried to wrangle the Loch Ness Monster, would you follow them?” Rey asked. 

“Nessie isn’t even real,” he said. 

“Beside the point,” she said, seemingly more mad than she was when he’d come into her room. “I will ever only be yours, Ben. And now I know that you belong to someone else,” she said, her eyes sad. 

“You’ve at least kissed a man besides me-”

“Never,” she answered immediately. “Our wedding kiss was my first.” Ben was silent. “I did not have a lot of opportunities to kiss men, but I wasn’t going to offer myself up to just anyone, either.” 

“Well,” he said attempting to stand to walk toward her, “let’s kiss some more. More practice.”

“Absolutely not!” she yelled. “Sit your arse back down.”

“I thought you didna even want me in here,” he said. Rey shook her head. 

“Oh, for the love of Christ, you are as stupid as a mule!” she said, watching as he sat back down. “I just wish you’d said, ‘Aye, my thistle, I had a mistress, but that’s in the past now. No need to worry.’” She used a deep voice to imitate her husband. “But no, instead you basically told me how great she was, and that I should write her a thank you note!” 

“So I didn’t choose my words well-”

“You think?!” Rey retorted. “And then, you have the audacity to walk out of the room without apologizing, because you were angry at me for yelling, telling me that I’m the only woman you ever wanted to marry… Ben, you are such a hypocrite!” She could see him begin to sober. “And you… My God, Ben.”

* * *

Rey woke up alone, in sheets that smelled like Ben. _Am I…_

“Care to explain why you are in the laddie’s bed and he is in yours?” Maz asked. 

“Not particularly,” Rey said, remembering how she’d gotten there. She didn’t force him to leave her room, so she just went to his and shut the door. 

“Aye, so it wasn’t you that drank three-fourths a bottle of whiskey last night?” Maz pointed to the open whiskey bottle and glass on Ben’s dresser. 

“No,” Rey replied. “That was him.”

“So you asked him,” Maz said, nodding, “And neither of you liked the answer.” 

Rey lay back down in the bed. “How do you know so much?”

“Because I’ve known that little boy since he wasn’t even a little boy - I’ve known him since he was a new bairn.” Rey sat up and looked around the room. “His parents used to fight a lot, at least when the late Duke was home.”

“That’s what he was telling me.” Rey spotted a painting on the wall of Leia - that much was obvious - and who she assumed was Buchanan, or Han, Ben’s father… and their baby boy in Leia’s lap. Somehow, Ben looked exactly the same as a baby as he did today. “Do you think he’ll ask for an annulment?”

“Do I _what_?” Maz asked, humor in her tone. “An annulment?”

“Aye,” Rey said, “This was a pretty big fight, and we haven’t-” She stopped herself. “Well, I’m sure you figured that out. You come into my room every day, and I’m obviously alone.”

“I have,” she replied, walking toward the bed. “My child, the laddie commits to things, and he is committed to you. He’s obviously messed this up a little, but he married you for you - he obviously saw something he liked; and I see you two every day, all day, and you two get on as if you’ve known each other forever.”  
  
“We do,” she whispered in agreement, nearly falling from the bed it was so high. She walked toward the painting of the Solo family, looking into the eyes of a young Ben. 

“No, what he did was’na right,” Maz said, “But, I have a feeling the laddie loves you.”

“Loves me?” Rey asked, jerking her eyes from the painted ones of Ben. 

“Aye, lassie. I know love when I see it.”

* * *

“I’ve cancelled the carriage - it’s not raining or snowing, so we will travel alone to Theed,” he said as she came down the stairs. “Gives us a chance to talk this out.” Rey did not reply. “Rey, you canna be mad at me forever.”

“Watch me,” Rey replied, walking past him and outside to the horse and cart.

* * *

“We must remain civil before my mother and uncle,” he said. “I’ll move out of the Ducal suite when we return home; give ya your space.” 

Rey turned to look at him, even more hurt. “Ben…”

“I would give you an annulment - I heard you talking to Maz this morning - but I fear I’ve waited on you for far too long, and I am a selfish man; to that I will not object, and I willna give you up just yet.” Rey watched him, the hurt and sternness in his eyes something that she could almost feel. “After some time, if we decide that this is not going to work, I will set you up in a cottage on the edge of the estate with all the money you could ever need. You’ll be a very rich woman in your own right.” Rey looked utterly defeated. “Just Rey, you married a perfect stranger. I thought you’d be thrilled.”

She turned away from him, looking into the sky. “You’re not a perfect stranger anymore,” she said, hoping he heard, but not having the energy to speak louder. 

“Rey,” he said, “I think we are being followed.”

“What?” she asked, before watching Ben put his hand on his gun.  
  
“Bandits,” he replied softly.


	9. The Clans

“You’re okay Ben,” she said, taking his dirk from his boot and cutting her petticoat. “Be with me, be with me. Come on.”

“Rey,” he said groggily. 

“Praise God,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I don’t know what to do.” She cut the sleeves of his coat and shirt off before wrapping his arm in the cloth from her petticoat. 

Ben nodded as much as he could, and Rey got clothes out of the trunks to prop up his head with so he could lay down. “Ben, if you die on me, I swear, I will die in agony myself!” 

“I am not going to die,” he said, “I had the wind knocked out of me and I got shot in the arm.” 

Rey rolled her eyes, but was happy to hear his voice. “I’m going to get us home,” she said. “And I’ve got your gun right here.” She pointed to to seat. 

“Did you shoot him?” Ben asked, a small smile on his face.

“I tried,” she said, “Once he saw I had a gun he got a little scared.” Rey pet the horses. “They’re really startled, but I think they’ll be okay.”

“Rey, dammit,” Ben said, “You’re amazing.”

“Is that bandage tight enough?” She watched him nod. “Good - now let’s get home.”

* * *

The footmen were startled to see Rey racing up the long road to Scarif on her own, but realized that something was afoot when they heard her yell for a doctor. 

“Lassie, where’s the lad?” Maz said, running from the castle. 

“I’m in the cart, Maz,” Ben said, “Call for Dr. Kalonia, and someone please help me up to my rooms.” 

Rey and Maz helped Ben to his rooms, and left as Ezra entered to help him get out of his destroyed clothes. Rey walked back in as soon as Ezra was through with him, hurrying to his side. 

“Ben,” Rey breathed, kissing his brows.    
  
“It is just my arm,” he chuckled as much as he could, “it will heal. Although, removing the bits of the bullet will surely not be fun.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. “And you’re the hero - you got us back here all on your own, tied up my arm.” With his able, right hand, he pushed her hair behind her ear. 

“It was not just you who made a vow to protect, husband,” she said, smiling gently at him. "Even if you do want to give up on this sham of a marriage-"

“Rey,” he said, “forgive me. It was… terribly uncouth of me to suggest the things that I did.”

“Not right now, Ben.”

He shook his head. “No, I need to say this.” Ben coughed, and Rey reached for a handkerchief. “I should have told you about her, but never, ever the way that I did. I should have never suggested you might want to thank her, I should have never suggested moving from the Ducal suite, and I should have never suggested what we could do in the case of an annulment, because my dear, there will be no annulment; Maz was right about everything.” Rey took his right hand, holding it in her own.

Rey held her breath, waiting. She gently pushed his hair from his face, not noticing how sweaty he was - no, this was more important. “I am in love with you, Rey. Very much.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Maybe later I can explain it all to you, but every day I wake up trying to think of a new way to woo you, a new way to make you fall in love with me, too.” 

“Ben,” she breathed, still clutching his hand. 

“I know it’s been short - you’ve been here for two weeks, but you seem as if you are comfortable here, as if you’ve been here your whole life, and Rey, that brings me such joy.” Rey handed him the handkerchief, letting go of his good hand.. “I don’t want us to be like my parents - they were very much in love, but they fought so often, and I cannot subject any future children to the kind of arguments that I was subjected to.”

“We won’t - we must never argue like that again,” she said. 

“But Rey,” he said, “I mean it. I love you. With every fiber of my being - my heart beats only for you.”

Rey leaned down to kiss him, and she was happy when she felt that his right hand began to caress her neck. 

“Ahmm,” Rey jerked up from Ben to see Dr. Kalonia in the doorway. “Your graces, I’d like to check the Duke’s arm to assess the damage, if I may.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rey said, standing up from the bed. 

“Caught in the act,” Ben said, chuckling. 

“So it appears,” Dr. Kalonia said with a smile, and walked over to Ben’s side of the bed, removing the makeshift bandage Rey had made from her petticoat. “I would advise that the Duke begin to drink quite a bit of whisky, as to make this process as bearable as possible - I’ve treated many a gunshot wound before. It is the Highlands, ya ken - still a good clan fight every so often.”

“I’ll get right to that.” Rey walked over to his whisky cabinet, grabbing a glass and what she knew to be his favorite taste of the bunch. She poured him a heavy glass and went back to the bed. Ben quickly took the glass and began to virtually chug. “Now slow down, sir. I can’t have you getting sick on me, too.”

Ben nodded and looked back up at Rey, smiling gently. 

Dr. Kalonia told the two that she would be ready to do surgery in an hour, and that she’d go back to the kitchen to prepare her supplies. Rey sat back on the bed as soon as Dr. Kalonia was gone. 

“Ben,” she said, leaning her forehead against his own, “I’m falling in love with you, too.” 

“If you weren’t, I wouldn’t blame you, especially after my show of it last night and this morning,” he replied. “But, I am glad that you feel the same way.” He moaned in pain, earning a weird look from Rey. “Christ, my arm.”

“What can I do to help?” Rey asked. 

“Tell me that you love me again,” Ben said, smirking.    
  
“I love you,” she said, wondering what would happen now that their feelings were out in the open.

“Somehow it hurts just a wee bit less.” He took her hand again. “He did not take your ring,” Ben observed. 

“No - I put it in my mouth,” she replied, smiling. “And as you can see, it is back on my finger. He got your purse, and that was… well, you know.

“My resourceful wife,” he said, chuckling. “At least you were not hurt in the scuffle.”

“Scuffle? I nearly lost you.”

Ben snickered again. “Lost me? You dinna nearly lose me,” he said, “but I’m glad that you felt so strongly about the possibility.” 

Rey turned around and propped herself up in the bed beside him. 

There was a knock at the door. “Yes?” Ben asked.    
  
“It’s me,” Maz said. “May I come in?”

“Aye,” Rey said. Maz immediately opened the door, and stepped inside. 

“Laddie, I’ve sent for your mother,” she said, and Rey was shocked that Ben didn’t make some sort of objection. 

“Well, she is expecting us, isn’t she?” he replied, taking Rey’s hand. “And I’m sure she’ll want to try and help take care of me.”

“Of course she will,” Maz said, smiling at the couple.

* * *

Maz and Rey sat in Ben’s sitting room as Dr. Kalonia removed the bits of the bullet, listening to Ben’s groans and his one scream. 

“Did you two talk?” Maz asked her, holding her hand. 

“We did,” Rey replied, smiling to herself. “Everything is fine - better than fine, now.”    
  
Maz nodded, smiling gently at the young woman. “Good, good. I knew you two would sort it out.” 

Dr. Kalonia came out of the room with blood on her hands. “Maz, if you dunna mind showing me where I could wash up,” she said, then looking to Rey. “He handled it well. He disliked the stitches the most, and he should have full use of his arm in a few weeks. Maz will surely help you remove the stitches.”

“Aye, I will - right this way, doctor.” Maz turned to Rey. “Go see your boy, lassie.”

Rey nodded and quickly head into the room to see to her husband. His eyes were closed, but as soon as he heard her footsteps, his eyes opened. “Hello, gorgeous,” Ben said as Rey approached the bed. His arm still had some blood on it, but not too much. 

“You are drunk, aren’t you?” Rey said. “I do not look the best right now.”

“Nonsense,” he said watching as she sat on the bed. “But you’re still in your clothes from earlier.”

“Yes,” Rey said, looking down at her dress. “What’s the matter with that?” 

“Well, if my mother sees you in a dress with my blood on it,” Ben pointed to the blood on her bodice, “she’ll never get over it.”

“She can get over it,” Rey whispered into his ear. 

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head, “She’ll think I’ve not allowed you time to take care of yourself in all of this.” Rey sighed, understanding. “For my sake, have Maz make you a bath, and put a clean dress on. If you don’t, I’ll also not be able to lie down for a week, because she’ll beat my arse.”

Rey chuckled. “Whatever you say, husband.” She sat up and went to look for Maz, not noticing the smirk on her husband’s face as she left the room.

* * *

“My baby,” Leia said as she entered the room, running to Ben’s side. “Kanan came to get us and told us everything.” 

“Us?” Ben and Rey asked in unison.    
  
“Hello,” they heard - Ben’s uncle, Luke, stood at the door. “What’d ya think I was gonna do, lad? Not come to check on you when someone says you got shot?” 

Ben chuckled. “Aye - I should’ve known.” He looked over at Rey, who had been hard at work on her knitting. She’d apparently put it down as soon as her mother-in-law entered the room and stood at attention. “Uncle Luke, this is my wife, Rey.” 

“Rey,” Luke said, walking toward her, taking her hands in his. “My sister told me everything she knows about you - I canna wait to hear more about my nephew’s choice of bride.” 

Ben didn’t miss Rey’s blush. “You and Rey have quite a bit in common, uncle. She’s somewhat of a Biblical scholar herself.” 

“Speaking of church, that’s where Kanan found us,” Leia said, looking at Rey. “Old Ben said he would be on his way here tomorrow.” 

“Old Ben?” Rey asked. 

Ben nodded. “Their pastor, whom I am named for, thistle.” 

_ “Thistle?” _ Leia mouthed at Luke. 

“He is more than our pastor, and Ben knows that,” Luke said. “He practically raised Leia and I, when our father was off doing God knows what in God knows where. Old Ben is like a grandfather to my nephew, like a father to us.” 

Rey nodded. It had only been two weeks - there is no way she should be expected to know everything by now, she supposed. 

“And Rey,” Leia said, approaching her, “we are forever in your debt. Kanan told us how you got Ben home safely and bandaged his arm.”

“You’re in my debt? Duchess Leia, he is my husband,” Rey said with a laugh. “I did what we all would’ve done.” Rey looked over at Ben, who was enjoying the sight of his family all in the same room.

“Have you sent for the authorities?” Luke asked. 

“No. I didn’t think they’d be able to do anything about a lone bandit,” Ben said, sighing. “So I didn’t see the hassle. It’s not like he took my fortune.” 

Rey didn’t reply. _ He did take a fortune, or what would be a fortune to most, _ she thought. 

“Nonsense, son. You should report it. At least it might help them catch the man if he strikes again.” 

“I remember everything he was wearing,” Rey said quickly. “A green and grey kilt, with two yellow stripes, one red stripe. He wore a dark grey leather coat, and he looked a bit scruffy.”

“One red stripe?” Leia asked. “You don’t think…”

She turned to her brother, worry in her eyes. “Aye… the** Fetts**.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben will recount the story of the robbery to the authorities in the next chapter, so you'll hear all about it then. I think some of you all thought that this was the beginning of the end of this story, but no - it is not! I have lots of plans for them. I'm starting the last semester of my senior year this January, but hopefully I will still find time to update regularly... until then, I will write as often as possible.


	10. The Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I said Fett stuff in this chapter, but it will be in the next. This was really hard to write, bc I have all of the Christmas stuff written. Just... hang in there.
> 
> This is a short one, but the Christmas stuff is just great.

“The Fetts?” Ben asked. “I thought they retreated to Caithness with the rest of their clan.”   
  
“Who are the Fetts?” Rey asked, her eyes swarming with questions. 

“They’re an old Highland clan, Rey,” Leia said. “They fought against the Crown in the sixty-five, with the promise that Scariff would be theirs, or so they thought. The Stuart likely would have kept Scarif for themselves, but they’d been promised the castle, nevertheless, because their numbers were so large. Three-fourths of their men died at Culloden.” Rey shivered at the thought.

“Wasn’t enough that they had the heads of clan Solo on spikes outside of this very castle when they took it over,” Ben said, looking at Rey. 

“Took it over?” 

“Aye - they killed all of the servants and all of the Solos that hadn’t escaped, and put their heads on spikes, then took over the castle for themselves - only a month until Culloden. The Crown made sure it was back in Solo hands, though.” Rey nodded, her eyes wide with shock. 

“They have held a grudge against us ever since,” Leia said, “The ones that survived Culloden were either killed in prison or sent to America - the women and children stayed put. But as Ben said, most of their clan is in Caithness now. It seems that one was traveling through and looking for trouble.” 

“But you weren’t in your tartan - how would he have known you were a Solo?” Rey asked. 

“That’s a private road we were on, wife,” he said. “T’would be obvious.”

“Ah,” she replied, nodding. “Well, it’s news to me.” Rey walked over to her husband and wiped his brow. “I can’t have you getting an infection and fever, too, now can I?” 

Ben hummed in contentment, the sound attracting the attention of the other people in the room. Leia’s eyes widened, and then she smiled.    
  
“Well, your uncle and I will go see that we get settled in our rooms,” Leia said, pulling Luke along with her. “And we’ll be back not a moment after.”

As soon as they were gone, Ben spoke. “Ah, she’ll likely only leave the room when I have to piss, then,” he said. “Now, how about you come up here with me, wife?”

Rey smirked. “And do nothing?”

“Yes, for once in your life.”

She obliged.

* * *

Ben felt up to a walk through the castle later that day, Luke walking with him. Leia sat in the ladies sitting room with Rey, watching as Rey knit. “You’re making that for Ben, aren’t you?” she asked. 

“I am,” Rey replied, smiling. “I started on it yesterday.”

Leia nodded. “You two seem to be getting on well.” 

Rey sighed, knowing that the woman only wanted what was best for her son. “It has only been two weeks as of yesterday, but we have been having a good time.” 

“Well, I don’t need to know everything, my dear.”    
  
Rey instantly knew what she meant, and she blushed. “Oh, no, no, my lady. I didn’t mean it that way,” Rey replied. “I’m terribly sorry.”

Leia chuckled. “Nothing to be sorry for - you two are husband and wife.” Leia noticed the unease in her daughter-in-law. “What do you all do for fun?”

“Your son graciously finished a lot of his business for the next few months so we could spend more time together,” Rey said, putting her knitting to the side. “We go riding, and we take walks. We read to each other, and he’s teaching me about his businesses.” 

The older woman sighed, smiling. “I wondered how he would be as a husband.”

Did she know about Bazine? Rey thought it best if she didn’t ask. “He’s a good husband thus far, ma’am.” 

Maz brought the two duchesses tea, and Rey watched with fascination at how easily her mother-in-law held her cup. “And you’re adjusting to Scarif?”

Rey nodded, grateful for all of the concern loaded into that one question. “I am. It’s not been easy, but between Maz and Ben, it’s been easier than one might expect. We’ve been busy planning for Christmas Eve.”

“Luke and I will be back for Christmas Eve, as you know. I’m sure we will be out of your hair in two days.” Leia had a sip of her tea. “We would not want to disturb two newlyweds for too long. I insisted on your planned visit simply because I didn’t trust Ben’s letters, that you were happy.” 

He hadn’t told her much of their correspondence, or that a lot of it happened. And while she hadn’t wanted him to be shot, no, what a terrible time for Leia to be checking on her happiness, given what they’d been talking about right before they spotted the bandit. 

“But now I see I had nothing to worry about.”

* * *

They had dinner as a family, and shortly after, they all went with Ben to his sitting room to play cards. “I’ve contacted the authorities, Benjamin,” his uncle said, laying down a queen. “You’re going to tell them about what happened - not letting anyone - Fett or not - get away with hurting my boy and heir.” 

Rey could tell that Ben was teetering on drunkenness again, but this time she couldn’t blame him - it was literally medication for his physical pain. “I don’t want to talk to the authorities about this. They’ll say there’s nothing to be done because it was on a private road-”

“Trying to murder someone, especially the Duke of Chandrila, and the will-be Duke of Alderaan, is a punishable offense,” his mother supplied, putting down her cards. 

“Aye, mother, but the authorities are not going to care about what a high-bred man of my standing has to say.” Luke chuckled, slamming his cards down. 

“Leia, your son is drunk off his ass,” he said, smiling. “We might want to get him to bed.” 

“I’ll go get Ezra,” Rey said, only to be stopped by Luke, who insisted he would do it. 

“Stay with your husband, lass,” he said, walking from the room. “You’re forgetting that you’ve had a hell of a day, too.”

* * *

Luke returned with Ezra, and they stood in Ben’s sitting room as Ben was helped for bed.

“I will stay with Ben to make sure he has everything he needs through the night,” Rey said, talking with Leia, Luke, and Maz. 

“Rey, you have been through enough today,” Leia said, “I will stay with him.” 

“I do not mind staying with my nephew. We have not finished our conversation from earlier,” Luke interjected.

“Let my wife do as she pleases.” All three women and the man turned around, Ben standing in his doorway, Ezra walking out. “When it’s time for bed, Rey will come in here with me.” 

Rey thought he looked rather dashing in his robe, all tied up. 

“My, my,” Leia said, smirking at Rey, Luke, and Maz. Rey smiled to herself and blushed. “Well, young man, I’ll come in to check on you in the morning.” 

Maz walked out of the room and she turned to Rey. “If you can’t handle him any longer…”

“We’ll manage,” Rey replied, placing a hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder. Leia and Luke left, and Rey quickly turned to him. “I suppose I cannot be mad at you for being drunk right now.”

She walked past him and into his room, waiting for him to follow.

“It was either be in extreme pain or be sufficiently waxed, so I chose to be sufficiently waxed,” he said. She shut his door, and he watched as she pulled down his covers. 

Rey motioned for him to get in bed. “I’ll help - now come on. This much alcohol would make most exhausted.” 

Ben obliged his wife, and let her help him into bed. “So you’re staying with me, eh?” 

“I had figured that it would be best,” she said, turning to walk away.

He watched as Rey went toward her room. “And where in the hell do you think you are headed, wife?”

“I am in my clothes!” she replied with a smile. 

“I would much rather see you with less,” he said, winking. 

Rey snorted. “If you weren’t injured, and drunk because of your injury, I’d certainly have quite a few words to say about that, given our tiff yesterday.”

Ben hummed. “But then you saved me and told me you weren’t sure how you’d be able to continue living if I died,” he said, looking at her lovingly. “Then I asked for your forgiveness and you told me you loved me.”

Rey smiled as she left, feeling butterflies in her stomach for the husband she barely knew.

Maz helped with her dress, not mentioning the fact that she wouldn’t need her bed turned down - that she would be in her husband’s bed.

Rey entered back into his room, changed into a silk chemise. “Ah, there’s my thistle,” he said, watching her walk toward the bed. “Coming into my bed.”

“Don’t get too excited,” she said, suppressing a smile. 

“Oh, dunna worry - too drunk to,” he said.


	11. The Bed

“I won’t be able to pipe for two weeks,” he said, staring at the ceiling, holding her hand. “Or ride. Or golf. Or shoot stag.”

“You’re going to have to sleep, Ben,” Rey replied, taking his hand in hers. “It’s two weeks. We’ll be so busy that time will fly by.” 

The firelight illuminated his profile, and his eyes looked like molten chocolate. “I hope you’re right, thistle,” he said, smirking. “Are you comfortable?” 

He turned to look at her, waiting on a response. “I am. You’ve a nice bed.” 

Rey watched as he broke out into a smile. “I hope that you’ll be very familiar with it, in time.” 

“Well, what about my own bed?” she asked, sitting up, looming over him. 

He pulled his hand from hers and pulled her down closer to him. “Would you rather me get familiar with it, then, wife?” He watched as her eyes widened. “Would you rather me ravish you there?” Rey fell forward so that her face was at his neck. “My shy lass; whatever will I do with you?” Rey felt her cheeks were red, and she smiled against his shoulder. “Please sit up so that I can see your blush.” Rey did as told, smiling down at him. “Ah. There she is.” 

He fiddled with the end of her braid. “Will you let me braid your hair when my arm heals?” he asked. 

“I suppose.” Rey scrunched her face, questioning. “Why would you want to braid my hair?” 

He put his hand on her neck, lovingly. “My mother, she taught me how to braid hers when I was a lad,” Ben said, smiling gently. “I’d braid yours if you let me.”

Rey thought back fondly to the way her hair had been braided by Leia on her wedding day. “I’d like that,” she replied, relaxing as Ben rubbed gentle circles on the flesh behind her ear. “I’d like that very much.” 

Ben’s eyes roamed down her body. “Seeing you in a shift and nothing more - I’m still not used to it,” he said, acknowledging that he was staring. “You take my breath away every time I walk into your sitting room, or I see you in the morning. If we’ve been riding and your hair is falling from however Maz has swept it up.” 

“Oh, you surely are drunk,” Rey said, touching his cheek. 

“I might be a little drunk still, but I’m telling you the truth, and I’ve never lied to you. I’ve said plenty of stupid things, yes, but lie? No.” He closed his eyes as she ran her thumb gently over the skin under his left eye. “The thought of losing you, this morning, before the mess; I about lost my damn mind.” 

“Because, despite this short courtship within a marriage, you love me,” Rey said, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

He opened his eyes. “Aye. I do.” He pulled her to him with the good arm, kissing her on the lips. “And you love me.”

She lay on his chest, her head in the crook of his neck, and nodded against him. “I do.” 

“Ah, Thistle. I’m so happy to hear you say it.”

* * *

She woke up to throw another log into the fire, and to change out Ben’s bandage. “Good morning,” he said sleepily. “I’ll admit, this isn’t how I’d wanted to wake up to you for the first time.”

“Too late for that,” Rey said, rolling up his shirt sleeve to get to his bandage. 

“I cannot believe that Ezra put me in a shirt - I said I didn’t need one,” Ben said, frustrated. 

“It’s a very cold winter’s night - that’s why,” Rey said, unwrapping the bandage. There was still some blood coming out from the stitches, which Dr. Kalonia said would stop soon. 

Ben winced as she cleaned-up the closed wound. “It’s only around two in the morning, if I’m to guess - I cannot see your clock.”    
  
“Lots more time for sleep, then.” Ben yawned, his eyes softening. “Thank you for staying with me tonight.” 

Rey swallowed nervously. “It is no problem.”

“Well, I doubt I’ll need you in here after a few more nights,” he said.

She touched his face, causing him to look at her more seriously. “I am your wife - it is my duty to care for you.” She reddened, looking away down at his arm, to fasten the clean fabric. “You could spend tomorrow night in my room, though. I must admit, I do like my bed - it’s not as high off the ground as yours, which I fear I might fall from.” 

Ben sat up as she rolled the sleeve back down. “My small, dainty wife.”

She nodded. “You see, I’m not that small or dainty.” Ben watched as Rey walked back to the other side of the large bed. “You are just a giant.” She practically had to hop into the bed. 

“I hope you think every bit of me to be giant,” he said softly, wondering if she’d understand the innuendo. 

“Well, your hands are certainly large, too,” she said, calm, not a new blush in sight. 

_ Oh, dear thistle,  _ he thought. “What I mean is,” he paused, wondering how to approach the topic, “I hope that you find-” He stopped himself again, swallowing in nervousness. “I hope that you think my cock is giant, too.”  _ _   


She was suddenly staring at him, wide-eyed. “Is it supposed to be?” 

He chuckled, pulling her to him with his good arm, kissing her with a bit more fire than their previous kisses had possessed. He released her, pleased with the smile on her face. “I cannot make love to you as I’d like with this lame arm, and I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, either.” 

“I would not deny you that, if you wanted it,” Rey replied softly, getting back under the covers. 

“You can deny me whenever you want, Rey - please know that.” He looked over at her. “I mean it. As I said, I am not a brute.”

“Just a giant,” she replied. 

“Aye - just a giant.” He sighed, taking her hand. “I cannot promise you I will not scare you in the morning. A gorgeous lass in my bed, well… let’s just say that my cock doesn’t care about my arm.” 

“You’ve surely seen prettier, women, Ben.” Rey spoke softly, turning to face him. 

“I wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he said instantly, kissing his forehead. “I’ve not seen anyone more beautiful and kind.”

* * *

He cried out in pain two hours later, and Rey woke up to find him walking around his room. “What the devil are you doing?” Rey asked him, getting up herself.

“You looked so pretty and peaceful,” he replied, “but I’m in pain, and if I drink anymore whisky, I’m going to lose my mind.” 

Rey took his hand, kissing his knuckles. “Come on - let’s go sit in your sitting room and read,” she said. “That should distract you.”

There was already a fire going in the adjoining room, but Rey added another log, and pulled a book from his stack on the small table before the couch. “You sit,” Rey gestured toward the couch. She noticed that the book was an atlas. “I want you to show me everywhere you’ve ever been.” 

He chuckled lightly. “That’s a lot of places,” he said, watching as she opened the book to a map of Europe. “I’ve been to France multiple times, as you know. Italy, Greece, Spain, Morocco.” He pointed at Morocco. 

“Africa?” she asked. 

He nodded. “I’ve been very lucky. Italy has amazing beaches.” He flipped the page, pointing at the United States. “Southern America is beautiful, too, but so humid in the summer - it’s like standing with your face over boiling water, but they love our whisky, so I do have to make trips there every so often. That’s a very long trip, though; about six weeks to get there.”

“That sounds dreadful,” she replied, scrunching up her face. Rey had never been on a boat, but she couldn’t imagine being on the sea for six weeks. 

“It’s not pleasant, but it’s worth it once you’re there.” Ben flipped back to Europe. “When we go to London, we will be there within a day,” he said. “We’ll head there in the spring for a few months, but we’ve already discussed that, I do believe.” 

“Feeling better?: she asked, watching his hand on the map. 

“A little,” Ben answered. “You’re a good nurse.”

* * *

Ben sat in his office, as his desk, and Rey stood behind him, the officers in front of them.    
  
“There’s still a lot of clan fighting going on in the Highlands, as you know, your grace,” said Officer Wexley. “You’d best be getting the new Duchess of Chandrila acquainted with it." Officer Wexley looked up at Rey. “The word in town is that you’re from England.”

“I’m a Scot,” she replied. “These rumors about where I am from have certainly swept town, haven’t they?”

“That’s what we get for not living in town, thistle,” Ben said, his right hand reaching above him for her own. “My wife and I plan on going on holiday to France next month - I shall catch her up on all of the clan wars then.” Rey could tell that Ben was at his wits end. He still planned on going to Paris next month? 

“So, you believe it was a Fett?” asked Officer Porkins. 

“The tartan was Fett, yes,” Ben said rubbing Rey’s knuckles with his thumb. 

_ She turned away from him, looking into the sky. “You’re not a perfect stranger anymore,” she said, hoping he heard, but not having the energy to speak louder.  _

_ “Rey,” he said, “I think we are being followed.” _

_ “What?” she asked, before watching Ben put his hand on his gun. _

_ “Bandits,” he replied softly. _

_ Rey looked all around, looking for the source.  _

_ “Stop,” Ben said sternly. “Remain calm.”  _

_ Before Rey knew it, Ben had told Rey to get into the cart and stay down. She immediatly took off her ring and put it in her mouth for safekeeping. Rey heard Ben arguing with the man and then a gun went off. Ben shouted out in pain, causing Rey to bolt up just as Ben fell backward and onto her.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Ah - there you are.” Rey gently pushed Ben off of her and turned toward the voice. A man with tan skin, a leather coat, and a worn out kilt stood to the left. He had a scar above his right eye, and it looked like it had been there forever. “The Duke of Chandrila’s taken a wife, I see.” He walked toward her. “I’ll take his wife, too - that should be a pretty penny.” _

_ Rey saw Ben’s purse in the man’s hand. Rey decided Ben must have given it to him trying to go away. Surely - knowing Ben - there was about ten pounds in there, more than some would see in a lifetime.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ She thought quickly, reaching for the gun on Ben’s side. “Like hell you will!”  _

_ She remembered how to shoot from watching Plutt in the occasional mess he got himself into with his gambling.  _

_ “A duchess with a gun,” he chuckled, approaching her, “not a sight you see-” _

_ Rey pulled the trigger, and missed him, just barely. “Go. Leave!” Rey said. She pulled the trigger again, the bullet going right by his head. “I’ll not miss next time.”  _

_ He ran away, and Rey didn’t waste any time trying to get Ben to wake up.  _

“A scar - that will help us,” Officer Wexley said, “And a rough looking man with that much money on him will attract attention.” 

Rey felt her husband squeeze her hand. “Your wife is very brave, your grace,” Officer Porkins said, smirking.    
  
Ben chuckled in return. “Gentlemen, you have no idea.” 


	12. In Nearly a Year

Old Ben arrived that afternoon, embracing Ben as if he were still a young boy. He pulled Rey into a hug as well. “Yer family now, ya ken!” 

Old Ben sat next to Rey’s Ben on the sofa in the library. “I would’ve preferred I be the one to marry you two, but, I will settle for christening your children,” he said, patting Ben’s knee. Ben’s eyes widened, looking over at Rey. 

“In due time,” Ben said, smirking at her. 

“Oh, nonsense! Your mother would love to have a grandchild to spoil.” 

Leia smiled to herself, looking over at Rey. “I would,” she said, “I’d love every minute.” 

Luke spoke up. “As well as Rey has taken care of Ben just the last day alone, I know she’ll be a good mother.” 

Ben could see Rey was getting nervous with the talk of babies. They had barely touched the subject, although he knew that she knew that he wanted a few…

“The last thing Rey needs is a child right now, when she has me to take care of,” Ben said curtly, looking to his mother. “And we have only been man and wife for two weeks - give us time.” 

Leia nodded, as did Luke. Rey looked up at him, and he could tell she wanted to say ‘thank you’ terribly. 

“My Young Ben, a married man,” Old Ben said, ruffling his hair.    
  
“I am twenty and nine,” he chuckled, readjusting his hair. “I’m hardly that young.”   
  
“That’s why you should really start thinking about those children-” 

“Mother!” Ben said, maintaining his composure. “I am not ready for this discussion, and neither is Rey. Do you understand?” 

Leia looked at her son. “Glad to see the injury hasna taken your fire, son,” she replied. 

Luke chuckled, causing Old Ben to chuckle, too. “Rey, I fear you have your hands full,” Luke said, looking at her. 

“I know I do,” she smiled, looking over at Ben.

* * *

After dinner, Rey sat with Ben in his study, watching him from her chair as he wrote a few letters. “I would gladly write them for you,” she said, putting her book to the side, “unless they are of a private manner.”

He smirked. “Not private at all, or at least, not private from you. I am writing to the man that keeps the yacht for me, that we’ll be setting sail on January the fifth for Paris.” She turned away, looking down. “What troubles you?”

“Will you be okay to travel then?” she asked him, tilting her head, concerned. 

“I will not be steering the boat, my thistle,” he said with a smile. “Unless you dunna want to go.” 

Rey thought for a moment. “I do think I’ll enjoy it,” she replied. 

“We’ll have to go shopping for you as soon as we arrive. The Parisian fashions are much different than that of a well-to-do Highlander woman, but I do believe I’ve told you that,” he said, putting his pen down. “Sweet Rey, my darling.” He stood, walking toward her chair, kneeling before her. “Do you not want to go?” 

Rey bit her lip. “I might be well off now, but I am still that poor country girl, deep down,” she whispered, “I will embarrass you in Paris.” 

He took her hands in his, kissing her knuckles. “You will not, I know it.” His eyes reached hers. “And if you ever feel uncomfortable, say the word, and we will leave. If you have questions, ask me, Rey.” He placed his head in her lap, and she carded her free hand through his hair, still in awe of how soft it was. “I want you to see things. I want to give you things.”

“Oh, Ben,” she said, “you have already given me a ton.”

“And I will give you more,” he mumbled. 

She sighed. “But what could I ever give you in return?” 

He looked up at her, a gentle smile on his lips. “Just you, and that alone is more than I deserve.” 

“I love you,” he said, pecking her lips with his own.    
  
“I love you, too,” she whispered.

* * *

Rey curled up next to him in her bed that evening, happy to not have any fear of falling from his tall bed any longer. 

“Ow,” she whispered, as she lay on her stomach, half on his chest. “I’m so…” she stopped herself. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asked her sitting up with her. 

“My… my…” she stopped herself once more, and looked away from him. 

Ben sighed. “What is it?” 

“Oh, this is so unladylike,” she said, “but my breasts are very sore, and my stomach has been cramping all day.” 

He nodded, standing from the bed and going to her bathroom. “It’s extremely natural.” 

“I don’t even have any rags here. I haven’t had my courses in nearly a year,” she said, “and I forgot to say something to Maz.” 

He walked back into the room with two towels in his good hand. “We’ll put these on the bed,” he explained, “and something tells me that when I wrote to Maz and told her I was to take a wife, she prepared for anything.”

Rey stood from the bed and spread the towels out on her side of the bed. “I should change into a less nice gown,” she stammered, walking toward her wardrobe. 

He smiled softly as he watched her pick up a shift and walk toward her bathroom, quickly changing in privacy. “Maz surely hasn’t gone to bed. Should I yell and ask her for some special tea?” 

“Special tea?” Rey asked, walking out of her bathroom. “Why would I need tea?”

“Rey,” he said, still smiling gently, “I think you remember I was raised by a fiery woman, and that fiery woman did not let me go without knowing what happens to a woman once a month, or what should.” He took his robe from the bench at the foot of her bed. “And when she was… going what you’re going through,” he continued, “Maz made her this tea, and she claimed it helped.” 

Ben walked out of the room without a word from Rey.

She was truly in awe of him, sometimes. She remembered Plutt calling her disgusting when she first received her courses at fifteen, and how another employee, a woman, of the inn had told her what to do. How she’d had to hide whenever she bled from Plutt, or else he wouldn’t let her work, and if she didn’t work, she didn’t eat. 

And here her husband was, getting towels for her, and fetching Maz to make her a tea that his mother drank. 

He arrived back in her room, walking toward her. “She was still awake, and she was happy to do this for you. She’s off to brew you a pot now, and she said she’d have all of your rags ready for you in the morning.” 

Rey hugged him to her, her arms wrapping around his neck, shocked by her own actions. “Oh, you are truly the rarest man.” 

He chuckled into her hair, reciprocating her hug. “I’m concerned about my wife and her comfort,” he replied, “Canna be that rare.”

“Ben, you’ve no idea,” she said, “One day, I will tell you all of it.”

“Was it Plutt? I loathe that man. To think that he, after all I-” he stopped himself. “Plutt.”

Rey looked at him, confused. “Yes, it was Plutt,” she said, “but I’m not up to telling that story just now.”

* * *

Rey sat in bed with Ben next to her, and sipped the tea. “It’s not the best-tasting tea, but anything to cure these pains,” she said softly, placing her empty cup on her bedside table. 

“You will have all that you wish,” he said, and she knew that he meant more than just the tea. “I’d still like to hold you, if you wish it.” 

She nodded, and he wrapped his right arm around her waist, between her body and the mattress, as she lay on her side. His hand came to rest on her hip, sending a shiver down her spine. “Are you cold?” he asked. 

“No,” she replied, placing her right hand over his heart. “I’ve got all I need.”

* * *

Rey woke to very little blood on the towels beneath her, but she had certainly destroyed her nightgown. “We’ll just cut it into rags, dear, or you can continue to use it as nightgown to wear during your courses,” Maz said as she drew Rey’s bath. “You shoulda seen the laddie last night, worried sick over you.”

“Worried sick?” she asked. “He didn’t seem too concerned to me.” 

The older woman sighed. “He mentioned that you hadna bled in nearly a year. I think that was why he was upset, lass.” 

Rey nodded as she sat down in the warm water, no longer embarrassed at Maz seeing her naked. “Why would that scare him, Maz?” 

Maz walked out of the bathroom, continuing to work around Rey’s room. “It’s a sign you were not healthy enough prior to your life here, I’m afraid. You’ve put on a little weight since you arrived.” Rey looked down at her naked body. “Oh, no, lass! I didn’t mean it in a bad way. You needed a bit more weight. And don’t you worry about that dress - it’ll still fit at Christmas.” 

“I need more weight?” she wondered aloud.    
  
“Lass, you were, and still are, skinny as a stick, and there is nothing wrong with being skinny, but-”

“I wasn’t being fed well before, I know.” 

She had been eating better and more regularly since Leia came to get her at the inn, she knew, but she didn’t know that it would cause her courses to pick back up. “I thought… oh, Maz, you have no idea what a relief this is. I was scared I could never have a child, and to tell that to him; it was so rare for me to… when…” 

“I know, dear. I know,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. 

“And I never thought I’d be lucky enough to marry and have a child before Ben,” Rey realized she was crying, being careful not to get her hair wet. “And he was so kind about it, Maz. He didn’t act like I was unnatural, or disgusting.” 

“Oh, lass, of course not. He wouldn’t.” She walked to sit on the tile next to the tub, pulling Rey into a hug. “We’re gunna continue taking care of ya here, Rey. You’ve grown on us already.” 

Rey wrapped her arms around the woman, her head on her shoulder, crying harder. “Thank you for letting this be my home.”

* * *

Rey finished with her bath, and Maz showed her the garter belt with the attachment for rags, helping her to apply it. 

“When you’ve had your courses before, did you bleed heavily?” she asked her. 

“Only once or twice did I soak through more than one rag a day,” Rey replied, looking at Maz through the mirror. “If you put me in a corset today, though, I fear I will not be able to handle it.” 

Maz laughed in reply. “We’ll just do the stays then, my dear.”

* * *

Rey sat at the breakfast table with her new family, looking over at Ben, wishing she could shower him with affection and thank yous right then and there, but she supposed she would save that for later. 


	13. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is... heavy, but in a good way. It's pushing their relationship forward to what I think you're all wanting from them, so, here goes:

Luke, Leia, and Old Ben were all gone by Wednesday, and Rey and Ben both were happy to have their home back to themselves. Not that Scarif Castle was a tiny place, rather, it was giant for a Highland castle that didn’t belong to the Crown, but there was no hiding from their guests when they just wanted to be left alone, especially since they would all be back in a week for Christmas Eve. 

Rey drank two or three cups of Maz’s tea every day, and the pain from her bleeding had lessened, and Ben’s wound was healing nicely, so much so that Dr. Kalonia said that the stitches could be removed before Christmas.   
  
Ben was moving his left arm around now, and while he did not have all of his strength back yet, he was happy to be able to sip from a glass and flip a page at the same time once again.

* * *

Ben woke before Rey on Thursday, as he seemed to do every day. She had rolled away from him in the night, and was on her back, on her own pillow, arms over her head. She looked so beautiful asleep, as if nothing as troubling her, and he knew that there was always something troubling her. His poor love - when he’d found out she hadn’t bled in nearly a year due to lack of nutrition… he had half a mind to ride to Glenshee and kill Plutt himself. 

But here she was, getting healthier because of his care, his staff’s care. She’d never want for anything ever again - the wealthiest woman in Britain, and she could not care less. She liked him because he cared for her; knowing that that was the reason she loved him, and not his fortune, made his heart swell. 

He watched as her lips opened slightly. Maybe he could just…

_Kiss her._ So he did, careful not to put too much pressure on his left arm as he loomed over her. 

“Ben?” she croaked, groggily. “What are you-” she stopped as his lips found her pulse point on her neck. “Oh, that’s nice.” 

He chuckled lightly against her neck, enough to send vibrations through her body. “Good morning, wife,” he whispered into her ear, leaving his spot at her throat. “I am sorry to wake you, but I couldn’t resist.” 

She looped her arms around his neck and held him to her. “Good morning, husband,” she replied, sighing as his hand found her waist. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked. “Any better?”

She huffed. “Maz said today could be the worst of it.” 

He pulled back from her, a concerned look on his face. “I’m sorry I woke you then.”

She shook her head, smiling at him. “I am not. Get back here.” He smiled in return, and settled back where he had been. “I feel okay right now, but we’ll see.” Ben placed his hand back at her waist. “What about you today?”

“I have nothing on my schedule,” he said softly. “I still haven’t shown you all of the estate yet, so we could go on a nice walk, if that would help your pains.” 

She hummed in agreement, running a hand through his hair. “Where on the estate?”

He sighed at her fingertips on his scalp. “Remember that cottage I mentioned to you right before I got shot?”  
  
“Benjamin!” she said, laughing. “Are you planning on making me live there anyway?”

He kissed her neck again, lightly. “Absolutely not, but I thought…” Ben paused, sitting up to look at her. “It might be kind of fun to spend the night there once, to see what it would be like to be fully by ourselves.”

Rey quirked an eyebrow, confused. “I’m confused.”

“I don’t want to do it now, but maybe after Christmas we could spend a night or two there. It’s a hunting lodge, about three miles away. It’s kept up by the castle staff, but nobody lives there, and when I use it, I’m usually with my boyhood, Eton, or Oxford friends. We could go today just to have a look.” 

Rey scanned his face. “I’m alone with you right now,” she said. 

“And at any moment, Maz could come bursting in, making us both get up to start our days, not that there is anything wrong with that, but,” he kissed her lips again, sucking in her bottom lip before pulling away, “I’d like to be alone with you without any distractions. I could cook for you, and maybe just for a night we could be like normal people.” 

Rey gently smiled at him, seeing the want in his eyes. “You want to be normal?”

“I will cook you a roast chicken, wife, and I think you’ll be quite impressed by my cooking skills.” 

She pushed his hair back, nodding. “Alright. Let’s go take a look today.” He kissed her cheek, and then huffed. “What is it?” 

He seemed to look nervous or maybe upset with himself. “I… I must go see to something.” He moved away from her, still facing the mattress. He was beginning to blush himself. He winched as his chest touched the mattress. 

“Are you in pain? Let me-” she sat up. 

“It’s not my arm,” he said sternly, disappointed. “Just… I’m going to leave this room, and I’d prefer it - for your sake - if you didn’t watch me get out of the bed or leave.”

“What is the matter?” she asked, causing him to look at her. 

He smirked, sighing. “Remember how I told you how I didn’t want to scare you in the mornings?”

“Yes,” she replied innocently. 

“Well, I fear that I would scare you at this moment.” He kept his eyes fixed on her. “Kissing and holding you just now did not help matters.” He chuckled before adding, “and your fingers on my scalp certainly didn’t calm the fire.” 

Rey had figured out what was going to ‘scare’ her. “Is there a reason that my husband doesn’t want me to see him aroused?” 

“Rey!” he said pushing himself up, a wild grin on his face. “You mock me so.” 

"I'm not mocking you, but I've been doing a lot of reading," she said softly. “I found a book in the library two days ago on... matters of the body. I’d be happy to-”

He shook his head. "I don't want to know who bought that book or where it came from," he muttered. “I will take care of this myself, especially when I cannot do anything to… not that I would mind pleasuring you while you are bleeding, but, I don’t think you would be comfortable enough with that, with me…yet.” He touched her face before wincing again. “Just please cover your eyes. I’ll be back in two minutes. This one won’t take long.” 

“What if I want to watch?”

He snickered, not sure how much more intrigued by her he could get. “I’m not letting you watch me spend myself into a handkerchief,” he said. 

“No, no,” she quickly replied. “I’d like to just watch you walk away.” 

He sighed, blushing again. “Alright. But I gave you an out,” he said. 

He quickly stood from the bed and Rey’s eyes widened as she saw the tent that Ben had created in his loose-fitting sleep pants. 

“You were right,” she said, “I do think you a giant.” 

He smirked and practically ran to his own room, shutting the door. Rey began laughing to herself, and was only quieted when she heard Ben grunt loudly not a minute and fifteen seconds later. 

Two minutes later, the door opened once more, and Ben’s flesh was glistening and blotchy-red. He stood at the door, looking at her, his face blank. 

“You’re red,” she observed, “and sweaty.” 

His own eyes widened, and he looked at the crackling fire. “That tends to happen, when I…” Ben quickly walked toward the window, pressing his hot, sweating face against the cold glass. “I don’t want to be embarrassed to talk about this to you, and I cannot believe that you are so relaxed about it, and here I am, a decade older and I can’t even look my wife in the eye and tell her that I pleasured myself to the thought of her, that kissing and holding her was enough of an arousing event to take my regular morning erection from something I could easily will away to, well… that.” 

Rey was blushing now, oddly thrilled at the idea that a simple touch and kiss could set him off as it had. “Please don’t be embarrassed to talk about these things with me,” she said. “I don’t care if it’s proper or not. _ The marriage bed will not be defiled _.” 

“My little biblical scholar is also a minx; I should have known,” he said, turning back around. “Well, Maz will surely be here any minute, as will Kanan. We’ll leave for the cottage as soon as we finish breakfast.”

Rey nodded and watched as Ben walked back to his room, smiling to herself as she sunk back into the bed, very pleased with herself.

* * *

“I cannot believe that you think this to be a cottage,” Rey said, as they approached the house. “It’s not Scarif, but it’s not the thatch-roofed cottage I had in my mind.”

They stood before a two-story home, made of the same brick as Scarif - a muted gray, with five chimneys from what she could tell. “My father made it into a hunting lodge once his father died,” he said, “This is where my grandfather stayed, largely, according to Han. He didn’t much care for being a father or being a Duke, and like my uncle, my father assumed his dukedom position very early, but not in name, not until his father died when he was twenty and two.

“So, as I said, when he died, he turned it into a hunting lodge. He and his friends Lando and Charles would stay in here for days at a time from what I gather, hunting, playing cards, and drinking.” 

Rey smirked as Ben let go of her hand to find the key to the front door. She had a feeling that Ben had bigger plans for their alone time than roasting a chicken and playing cards. Not that she minded, especially after this morning. “Ah, here we are,” Ben said, procuring the key. 

He opened the door and motioned for Rey to walk in first, where she was greeted by a portrait of a baby Ben and his mother. “Oh, look at your hair!” she said, walking close to the painting. Ben walked around and began opening the curtains so that more light could come through. “Why is this painting of you and your mother here, hidden away?”

She watched as Ben shrugged. “I don’t care much for how I had not enough hair to cover up my ears, so I-” he stopped. “Oh, I am an idiot. This was a terrible idea.” 

“There are quite a few paintings here of you as a child, aren’t there?” Rey asked, a shimmer in her eye. 

“Yes,” he sighed. “It wasn’t until I was seven that I was able to convince my mother to allow me to wear my hair longer to cover them up.” Rey smiled as she walked toward him, reaching for his ears and rubbing gently at the lobes. 

“Well, will you please show me the rest of this _ cottage _, husband, so that I might see more of your ears?” 

Ben chuckled and kissed her, more passionately than this morning - less sweet. “Of course, my darling.”


	14. An Examination

Ben showed her through the house, ending on the bedroom they would stay in when they came for their visit. The walls were painted blue, and the bed was very simple. Light shown through the curtains, and it was a peaceful setting. “We must work on getting your portrait painted soon,” he said, “I’ll arrange for that for before we leave for Paris.” 

“My portrait?” she asked, looking at the bed. “Why?” 

“So that future generations will be able to see what their great-great-great grandmother looked like,” he replied, walking toward her. “And so that I can look at you whenever I want.” 

“You already look at me whenever you wish,” she said, blushing. She still had her fur on, as the house was cold, and she was wearing the Chandrilan hunting tartan wool skirt today, which Ben liked. “I… it seems like such a frivolous thing, to have one’s picture painted.”

He nodded. “Aye, but it’s necessary for us. The dukedoms of Chandrila and Alderaan will pass on to our first-born son, or our first-born daughter and her husband, if we haven’t a son, and it’s important that the future generations see what came before them. Have you not seen all of the paintings around Scarif?”

Of course she had, but she’d never seen so many paintings at once, and she felt like all of those people were staring at her. She figured Ben had never explained them to her because he saw no importance in the art, but now that she knew that he felt differently…    
  
“Seems a pity that our first-born child, were that child a girl, cannot simply inherit your titles - that it must be a boy.” Rey turned to face him. 

“But she will be called Duchess, like yourself,” he said. He watched as something flickered in her mind. 

“I keep forgetting that I’m a duchess!” she said, smiling. “I don’t really think of you being a duke much, either. I think of your businesses, but the title only comes to mind when someone mentions it.”

“I’ll make a point of calling you ‘my duchess’, then,” Ben replied, pulling her to him. “So,  _ duchess _ , what do you think of staying away from the staff for at least one night? Leaving our titles at the door, being regular, titleless Highlanders?” 

She swallowed, suddenly a little nervous - upset that her course-driven libido had caused her to be so wanton with him this morning. That was why she had begun reading that book as soon as she found it, she realized - she was driven mad with lust because of her bleeding…

_ Or because she loved her husband and found him extremely attractive _ , which made her realize that her other reasons for being driven-mad with lust only made it worse. 

“I would like that,” she said quietly, both scared and excited.

* * *

Rey had made Ben stop four times on their walk back, absolutely exhausted, and scared she would faint with exhaustion. It wasn’t even luncheon yet, and she kept claiming she was ready for a nap. 

“Just hold onto me, thistle,” he said, cursing himself internally for not being able to carry her in his condition. “I should have never suggested this adventure.”

“Nonsense,” she said, Scarif in sight. “I enjoyed it very much.”

* * *

Maz and Ben helped Rey to her room. Ben left as soon as Maz suggested that she start a bath for Rey, and then get her straight to bed. 

Ben stood in the ballroom where they would host their Christmas Eve party, looking at the grand painting of himself, his mother, and his father. He had been fifteen when it was painted, and had already reached his father’s height. He was a gangly-looking thing, he noticed. His mother and father were sitting, and he had been placed next to his mother. Had they been in the library for this painting?

He decided that Rey should be painted in sunlight, so that the artist could catch all of the colors in her eyes, and the different shades of brown in her hair. 

_ Maybe I should be in the painting with her, _ he thought to himself, suddenly shaking his head.  _ Where had that idea come from? _

“Laddie,” he heard, bringing him back to reality. “Lunch will be ready and delivered to the lassie’s sitting room shortly,” she said. “She’s feeling better, but I must say, you wore her out with that walk.”

He sighed, his hands behind his back. “I thought the exercise might make her feel better, but I’m sure that I will be reminded of that idea for years to come.”

Maz chuckled. “She’s’na mad at ya, boy, just exhausted. She’s bleeding heavily, and, well, I shouldna explain this to you.” 

“No, I’ve slept next to her for four nights now, Maz,” he said, “I am the one who got the towels out for her that first night. I’m not scared of menstrual blood, nor does the talk of it rebuke me.” 

The older woman straightened up, putting her hands on her hips. “I suspect she’s bleeding so because it’s been so long, and she indicated to me that her flow had never been this heavy.” She walked closer to the boy she’d helped raise, that was now a man, that would one day in the near future have a family of his own, she was sure. “She’s thrilled she’s going through this, to be blunt.” 

Ben’s face contorted. “Thrilled?” he asked, looking at Maz. “How can this be pleasant?” 

“Because she was scared she was barren and didna wish to displease you,” she said sternly. “I won’t say anymore about it, but she is overjoyed.” Maz rested an old, withered hand on his arm. “She is healthy now, and getting healthier, all because you saved her from that dufus. She’ll love ya forever for it, too.”

“I hope she doesn’t love me simply because I’ve given her health,” Ben replied, looking at the painting again. 

Maz smiled. “She loves you because you’ve shown that you care about her opinions, about her feelings, about her happiness,” she answered, squeezing his arm, getting his attention once more. “I only wonder how she’ll handle it when you tell her how long you’ve known of her.” 

“I can’t tell her,” Ben said forlornly. “She’ll never forgive me, and hate me for not taking her out of the situation earlier.” 

Maz’s eyes widened. “You must tell her soon, laddie. Tell her now before you wait too long.”

“I will never tell her,” he said again. “I thought I’d have to work for years to earn her affections, and the bullet I took to the arm was a blessing, because for some reason, it made her realize that she loved me, after I have loved her from afar for years. And to think I almost lost her because of my stupid decisions at age twenty.” 

“You must make up your own mind, but you should tell her. She’s a kind soul - she could never hate you.” Maz let go of his arm and walked toward the double doors. “She requested chicken soup on account of being outside in the cold for so long, and that it might ease her pain. Would you like to eat something different, yourself?” He shook his head ‘no’. “Very well. Less work for cook, anyway.”

* * *

_ In sickness and in health _ , he thought, as he fed Rey her soup. “I think we should have Dr. Kalonia come by to take a look at you.” 

“Am I dying?” she asked, eyes wide.

He smiled. “No, you’re not dying, but I want to know what steps can be taken to make sure you are never in this much pain ever again. I cannot bear to see you ill like this once a month.” 

Rey smiled gently. “You can stick me in that cottage, then, and I’ll come back when I’ve bled myself dry.” He could tell she was joking, and he was grateful. 

“I will do no such thing,” he replied. “If this was to be a month occurrence, we’ll simply have to prepare. We can keep a diary of it.” 

She supposed that wasn’t a bad idea - and maybe if Dr. Kalonia came, she would have more suggestions for monitoring.  _ Maybe it would be a relief to be pregnant _ , she thought, because she’d at least not be bleeding then. 

“I’ll send for Dr. Kalonia tomorrow,” he said softly, feeding her another spoon-full of soup. “Do you need another drink?”    
  
She nodded, swallowing the soup, taking the glass from him, gulping the water down. “I can’t eat anymore,” she said, hating that she was wasting food. “Can this be saved for later?”

“We can have it put in the icebox, and warmed up again later, if you’d like.” Rey nodded and Ben stood. He didn’t even eat his own soup - too wrought with fear over Rey to have an appetite.

Ben pushed the cart out to the hall, and she could hear him saying something, presumably to Maz. He quickly re-entered, standing straight. “You look so handsome.”

He blushed, tilting his head. “You say that so often that I am convinced that every man that ever walked into the inn must have been ghastly to look at,” he replied, watching her from where he stood. 

“Even if that were true, it would be hard to deny that you’re good to look at.” She closed her eyes and nestled down into the bed. “You’re welcome to join me for my nap.”

He shucked off his overcoat and shoes, walking to his side of her bed. “If you insist.” 

Ben held his young wife, wondering if Maz was right. Should he tell her the truth: that he’d known her face for years?

* * *

Dr. Kalonia examined Rey, and Ben stayed in her sitting room, pacing back and forth before the fire. She couldn’t be terminally ill, could she? No - he was overreacting, but he’d rather overreact than not react at all. 

“Your grace?” Ben turned to see Dr. Kalonia at the door to Rey’s room. “I’m finished with my examination, if you would like to come in to hear my prognosis.” Ben quickly walked in and walked toward Rey, his heart breaking as he watched his wife reach for his hands. He gladly obliged, holding her hands in his own.    
  
“Your grace,” Dr. Kanolia said, looking at Rey, “this is perfectly normal for someone such as yourself, finally eating properly. I expect that your cycle will not be regular for a few more months, but if you keep up with these healthier habits, I suspect that your fertility will not be affected negatively.” 

Rey squeezed Ben’s hand, and he looked down at her, smirking. “As for the heaviness of this cycle, I believe that it could be because it has indeed been such a long time. We’ll only know once you have a monthly cycle if this is a regular thing for your body. And if I am of any influence, I recommend not taking any more long walks until this cycle is over. Drink lots of water, eat some fish and beef.” Dr. Kalonia smiled gently at the couple. “You need to be happy that I live so closely, your graces,” she said, “I’ve been here once every other day since Sunday.” 

Ben rolled his eyes - it wasn’t as if she wasn’t compensated, and well. “Kanan and Ezra will make sure that get you home safely, and Maz will pay you on your way out.” 

Dr. Kalonia nodded and walked out through Rey’s sitting room, and Ben knelt down to be eye-level with Rey. “I am relieved, my thistle.” 

“Me, too,” she said softly. Ben kissed her forehead. “Me, too.”


	15. UPDATE

I am working on a complete rewrite of this from the second chapter onward.   
  


I’ve rethought this a lot, and I think the story has serious potential. I want to do it the right way. I’m working on rewrites and will get back to you momentarily.   
  


Thank you! 


	16. a new story.

Please check out my new story, which will have many similar elements as this one, but will hopefully be better, [Srainnsearan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27256285/chapters/66587107).

I have been reading a lot of history as of late, and I’m trying to make this one a bit more realistic and less like a fairytale, even though it will have a HEA.   
  
Please go give the new story a read. I know the first chapter will not disappoint. ;) 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
